


Help, I Need Somebody (Not Just Anybody)

by thesummerofrain



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, But there will probably be a happy ending so, Clexa, F/F, I'm Sorry, Like really slow, Linctavia - Freeform, People also tell me that it's funny at times, So much angst, minty, ranya, seriously, slowburn, so many ships in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-05
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-21 09:38:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 90,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3687381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesummerofrain/pseuds/thesummerofrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is a volunteer with Ark University's anonymous and confidential Peer Support Line. Her first chat proves to be more difficult than she had anticipated, but once it is over, she can't stop thinking about it, and she can't quite let it go.</p><p>Or </p><p>Clarke helps Lexa through the toughest time of her life</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Visitor is Typing...

**Author's Note:**

> This idea sort of just came to me. It was supposed to be a quick one-shot type of deal but my hand slipped and this was the product.
> 
> Also I have no beta so any mistakes are my own. Feel free to point them out to me and I'll try to fix them!
> 
> Update: for reasons that will become apparent later on, I've switched the roles of Raven and Octavia in this. It doesn't really make too much of a difference to this chapter, but just a heads up :)

**\-- 31-03-2015 Tues --**

**4.02PM  
****Ray-Ray Reyes  
** C, you’re the on-call for the 10-1 shift tonight, right?

 

 **5.13PM  
****Princess Griffin  
** Yup. 

 **5.18PM  
****Princess Griffin  
** Are you bailing on your shift?? 

 **6.23PM  
******Ray-Ray Reyes**  
** …

 **6.23PM  
******Ray-Ray Reyes**  
** I hate to do this to you

 **6.23PM  
******Ray-Ray Reyes**  
** You already take so many other people’s shifts

 **6.24PM  
******Ray-Ray Reyes**  
** I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t dying of a viral plague

 

 **6.27PM  
****Princess Griffin  
** Calm down there, drama queen. 

 **6.27PM  
****Princess Griffin  
** It’s all good. This is exactly why we have on-calls. 

 **6.28PM  
****Princess Griffin  
** Are you feeling okay?

 

 **6.30PM  
******Ray-Ray Reyes**  
** I’ll live… probably

 **6.31PM  
****Princess Griffin  
** That’s good to hear.

 

 **6.36PM  
******Ray-Ray Reyes**  
** Do you have any shifts later in the month that I can take off your hands?

 

 **6.42PM  
****Princess Griffin  
** Well, if you insist, you can take my 10-1 next Saturday.

 

 **6.42PM  
******Ray-Ray Reyes**  
** Done!

 **6.44PM  
******Ray-Ray Reyes**  
** I have the Online shift tonight btw

 **6.44PM  
****Princess Griffin  
** Oh okay, coolio. 

 **6.44PM  
******Ray-Ray Reyes**  
** You’re the bestest

 

 **6.45PM  
****Princess Griffin  
** Damn right I am. 

 **6.45PM  
****Princess Griffin  
** Feel better <3

 

Octavia is still at her part-time job when Clarke is messaged to come in for the shift, and she won’t be back home until 11PM. Clarke goes about making herself some dinner before she has to leave. She knows that Octavia will need to eat when she gets back from work, but the girl has a tendency to be too lazy to take care of herself, so Clarke makes some extra food and leaves it in the fridge. She scribbles out a quick message on a sticky note and sticks it to Octavia’s bedroom door.

_Got called in for a shift. Will be back around 1.30. There’s some chicken for you in the fridge. Eat something, even if you’re not feeling chicken tonight. Good luck with the essay xx_

Both girls had pulled an all-nighter the night before to finish off essays for their shared anthropology class, and Clarke had gone to hand in both of their essays at 10.30 that morning as Octavia slept. Clarke had agreed to let Octavia stay at home in bed because the poor girl had yet another essay due the next morning at 9.30 and would need to pull another late night. Plus she was working from 6 – 11 so she needed all the rest she could get. They both hated themselves a little bit for leaving so much work to the last minute, but it had been a rough week for the pair. This was not the first time they had done this, and it would most definitely not be the last.

After a pause, Clarke smiles to herself and scribbles out another note, sticking it on the door below the first one.

_I was experimenting with the chicken so it’s a bit different. Let me know what you think!_

It had been Clarke’s first real all-nighter, and she is beginning to feel the effects of it now. She hadn’t even been able to nap during the day because of her group meetings and classes. Still, she and Octavia have planned to pull another all-nighter tonight because of Octavia’s second essay (this one a whopping 12 pages long), while Clarke has to prepare for her final presentation. Clarke doesn’t strictly need to stay up to prepare for it, because she has been working on it with her group all term and isn’t too concerned (though she feels like she should be), but she does not want to leave Octavia alone.

With a tired sigh, Clarke picks up her stuff and heads out of the house. It is only 9.20, and campus is just a 10-minute walk away, but Clarke likes to take her time. Unless she is running late, or maybe if it is particularly cold out, she likes to walk at a slow, leisurely pace. It drives both Octavia and Raven mad. Clarke laughs at how frustrated they both get with her, but she rarely adjusts her pace for them. She enjoys looking up at the stars and the moon as she walks. 

She arrives 10 minutes early for her shift. There are two girls already in the small room that serves as the hub for the Line, ready to leave after their 7-10 shift. Clarke chats with them pleasantly as they begin packing up their things, happy to be relieved. They tell her that it has been a quiet shift, with no calls or chats. As they leave, Clarke takes a seat at the desk with the computer that is used for the Online chats. This is Clarke’s first online shift, because the online feature is so new to the line, and in all honesty, she is slightly nervous. Not that she has much experience with calls, either, because she is still relatively new to the line. But with a phone call, there seems to be more to work with. You can listen to the tone of voice to gauge how the caller was feeling. It is easier to understand what was being said. But with just a chat…

Clarke shrugs it off. She cracks her back and settles herself into her semi-comfortable swiveling chair. Honestly, Ark U could have provided them with a better room, and better seating, but it is better than nothing. Her laptop sits on the desk in front of her, open on the cell bio slides that she has to memorize for her final presentation at 4PM the next day. She glances at the time on the screen. 9.57PM.

At 10PM on the dot, her co-listener walks into the hub. Clarke isn’t sure, but she thinks her name might be Harper. There are still a lot of people on the line who she has yet to properly talk to, or even meet.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Clarke asks as Harper puts her stuff down on the other desk.

“It’s okay. Pretty busy, lots of assignments.”

“Ah, right. Well, ‘tis the season,” Clarke says with a slight smile.

“Yeah. I have a midterm this week, as well.”

“What? This late in the term?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s nowhere near the middle of the term. This is the _end_ of term,” Clarke says indignantly.

“I seriously can’t wait ‘til summer.”

“I feel you on that one.”

“I can’t believe it’s almost the end of the year though! That’s crazy.”

“Yeah… I’m still in denial about that,” Clark says with a shudder. She really has no idea how the year slipped away, but it’s suddenly the end of March and exams are only a week and a half away.

“Ditto.”

“What year are you in?”

“Third year, commerce. You?”

“Second year, Health Sci.”

“Ah, Health Sci… that’s intense. Lots of group stuff, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Tons. Everything is group work. But I’ve been lucky; I have great group members.”

“That’s good, then. Are you planning to do med school after your undergrad?”

Clarke grins. This is the usual question she gets asked as soon as anyone hears that she is in the Health Sciences program.

“I’m not sure. Probably… but I want to keep my options open.”

“Cool, fair enough. Have you had any calls or chats yet?" 

“Nope. Hopefully tonight will be the night. What about you?”

“I was on the Line last year, too. I’ve had a few calls… but this is the first time I’ve been here with one of the online shifts! I have no idea how it works.”

“I’m not entirely sure either,” Clarke says, admitting some of her concerns. 

“Well, we’ll figure it out if we need to.”

“Yeah.”

With that, both girls settle in to their own work, occasionally exchanging an exasperated word or two about how much they hate exams and midterms and studying in general. One of the many things that Clarke enjoys about being on the Line is getting to meet so many great people on shifts. The conversation is always so easy to get in to with everyone. It really makes the three-hour shifts go by a lot faster, especially when there are no calls.

Over an hour into the shift, it is still a quiet night and Clarke does not think anyone will be using the line. She has just temporarily given up on her presentation slides (and switched to Tumblr) when a little _ding_ sound goes off from the computer to signal that someone has started a chat. Clarke’s heartbeat quickens, and she is both excited and nervous. 

“Looks like you’re going to get your first chat!” Harper says with a grin, rolling over a little closer to take a look at the computer screen herself. “This is exciting!”

 _Visitor: hello_

  
Clarke quickly types out a standard reply.

 

_PSL: Hello, and thank you for reaching out to the Peer Support Line._

_Visitor: right_

_PSL: How are you today?_

_Visitor: the same as I have been for the past few months_

_Visitor: maybe slightly worse  
  
_

Clarke looks up at Harper and worriedly asks, “What do I say to that?”

“You can ask her if there’s something on her mind,” Harper provides after a short pause. Clarke smiles at her gratefully. Harper has been on the line for over a year, and Clarke is grateful for her expertise. She finally understands why all shifts are with at least one other listener.

 _PSL: Is there something in particular that’s on your mind?  
_

Clarke waits, not knowing what to expect. The pause goes on for longer than Clarke thinks is normal, but realistically it is probably only about a minute before Clarke sees the ‘ _Visitor is typing…’_ sign appear.

_Visitor: there is always a lot on my mind_

_PSL: Okay._

_PSL: What would you like to talk about tonight?  
  
_

Another pause, slightly longer this time.

_Visitor: i don’t know_

_Visitor: i am not sure why i am doing this_

_PSL: What do you mean by that?_

_Visitor: i don’t know why i am bothering with this chat thing_

_PSL: Well, I’m glad you decided to chat with the line._

_Visitor: sure_

 

Clarke decides to wait and see what the visitor will say, instead of replying. Maybe they just need time. She is right in doing so.

 

_Visitor: it has been six months_

_Visitor: i have been alone for six months_

Clarke looks up at Harper again, not trusting herself to know the right thing to say. Luckily, the other girl is already looking at the screen, intent on helping out with Clarke’s first chat.

“Should I ask why she would say that?” Clarke asks uncertainly.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

_PSL: What makes you say that?_

_Visitor: it is the truth  
  
_

Clarke waits, hoping this person will elaborate without further prompting. She thinks back to her training and recalls the importance of using silence, letting them take their time, not pushing.

_Visitor: I lost her exactly six months ago today_

_So this is about a break-up,_ Clarke thinks to herself. _Okay.  
_

_PSL: I’m sorry to hear that._

_Visitor: i'm sure you are_

_Visitor: everyone is always sorry  
  
_

Clarke waits for a whole minute, which is a lot longer than one would think. They do not say anything.

_PSL: Would you like to talk about how you lost her?  
  
_

Without missing a beat, the chatter replies.

_  
Visitor: going 120km/h on the highway on a Friday night.  
  
_

Clarke gasps and shares a concerned look with Harper.

 

_Not a break-up.  
  
_

Clarke does not know what exactly to do in this situation. This is a heavy first conversation for the inexperienced volunteer. She looks to Harper for assistance, but Harper seems almost just as thrown.

 “Wow,” Clarke breathes out in shock.

“This poor guy,” Harper whispered.

Clarke frowns. She had not made the connection that the chatter was a guy, but she figures it makes sense to come to that conclusion, given the “her” that they keep referring to. Still, she does not want to make any assumptions. She tries to think of what to say next, and quickly.

_I’m not going to say that I’m sorry again. They probably get that a lot. They don't seem to like it.  
  
_

_PSL: Would you like to talk about her?  
  
_

A pause.  
 

_Visitor is typing...  
  
  
_

_Visitor: I have not spoken of her in almost 6 months_

_PSL: That’s quite a long time to keep everything inside.  
  
_

“Wow, no wonder he feels like he’s alone,” Harper says. “I hope he has some friends helping him through this.”

“Might not be a guy,” Clarke points out quietly.

“Oh, you’re totally right,” Harper replied. “I didn’t even think of that. Guess I shouldn’t have assumed. You don’t usually have this issue with a phone call.”

Clarke is going to reply to Harper, but she is distracted.

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

Clarke waits, more on edge than she realizes, her eyes transfixed on those three words. She is startled when her phone beeps with a text. She glances down at it, but before she can check it, she sees that her chatter has replied. Her phone beeps once again but it goes ignored for the moment.

 

_Visitor: i do not really have anyone to talk to about it_

_PSL: Well, I’m glad you’re talking to the Peer Support Line._

Clarke looks at her phone as she waits for the chatter to say something.

 

 **\-- 31-03-2015 Tues --  
**  

 **11.31PM  
****Octopus Blake  
** Enjoy your shift yo

 **11.32PM  
******Octopus Blake**  
** I’ll be up and ready to mingle when you get back

 **11.33PM  
****Goldilocks Griffin  
** Okie dokie. 

 **11.34PM  
******Octopus Blake**  
** Also chicken was delish

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

**11.34PM  
****Goldilocks Griffin  
** Aw yay, I’m glad!

 

_Visitor: i do not really know what to say_

_PSL: Do you want to talk about her?  
  
_

Clarke wants to be gentle as she asks the question again, not wanting to push too much. She lets the chatter take their time to figure out how they want to reply.

 **11.36PM  
****Goldilocks Griffin  
** I was experimenting with some of those new spice packet things in the cupboard.

 **11.37PM  
******Octopus Blake**  
** Lol oh yeah, those

_Visitor: i do not know how to talk about her_

_Visitor: i do not know if i can_

_PSL: That’s okay. It’s totally understandable that this is hard for you.  
  
_

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

Clarke voices her concerns about not wanting to be too pushy to Harper. Harper smiles and reassures her. “It’s okay, you’re doing a great job. They’ll take some time to open up, but that’s to be expected.” 

Clarke nods as the now-familiar ring goes off to signal another message.

_Visitor: i feel like it should not be this difficult to talk about her  
  
_

_They aren’t capitalizing their first letters,_ Clarke thinks suddenly. _Or using a period at the end of the sentence. I should do the same.  
  
_

The grammar nerd within Clarke rebels against it, but she matches the chatter’s manner of typing. It is the closest thing to tone-matching that she can think of. Logically speaking, she knows that it is a minuscule detail and makes no real difference, but she still hopes that it might make the chatter feel more comfortable with the conversation, even just subconsciously.

_PSL: it takes time... you don’t have to force yourself to do anything you aren’t ready to do_

_Visitor: what if i am never ready?  
  
_

Something in Clarke’s heart aches violently at this admission, this fear that is so clearly plaguing this visitor’s heart. She just wants to reach through the screen and hug this person. Not in a pitying kind of way, but just in support. She begins to type out a response, but then she deletes it.

 _Visitor is typing…  
_

Clarke waits.

_Visitor: i want to be able to do this… i just do not know how._

_PSL: reaching out to the line was a good first step_

_Visitor: i suppose so_

_PSL: we can start with something really small, if you’d like_

_Visitor: like what?  
  
_

Clarke thinks about it for a second.

 _PSL: what was her favourite colour?  
_

A few seconds pass before the words appear.

_Visitor: blue_

_Visitor: a deep blue, but not quite navy… i think she called it a “dark teal”_

_Visitor: she used to say it reminded her of the ocean_

_Visitor: her room was painted in the colour_

_Visitor: we did it together_

_Visitor: it took us a lot longer than it probably should have_

_Visitor: there was more paint on us than on the walls by the end of the day  
  
_

Clarke smiles, thinking back to when she and Octavia had spent a whole afternoon painting Octavia’s room when they first moved in last May. Octavia had sat on Clarke’s shoulders to reach the very top of the ceiling, and Clarke was fairly certain that Octavia was terrified of falling the entire time. They had both laughed so very hard.

_PSL: that sounds like a lot of fun_

_Visitor: it was  
  
_

Clarke is glad that the chatter is opening up. She is about to ask another small question when the words appear again, and Clarke knows that nothing she was going to say is as important as letting the chatter say what they need to say.

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

_Visitor: it feels nice talking to someone like this_

_Visitor: i do not really have a lot of people to talk to  
  
_

A pause.

_Visitor: i do not have many friends  
  
_

Clarke’s heart twinges again. She wonders whether it is appropriate to use a smiley face. She looks to Harper, but the other girl has temporarily turned back to her laptop and is doing her own thing.

 _PSL: the line is always here to talk :)_ _  
_

_Visitor: yes, it is too bad this only runs three nights a week_

_PSL: yeah, the online service is new this term so it’s running as a pilot program, just Sunday – Tuesday_

_PSL: I’m sorry!_

_Visitor: oh that’s okay, it’s not your fault at all_

_PSL: but the phone line runs every night from 7 – 1am. You can call any day, or even now if you’d prefer_

_Visitor: maybe, but my cell phone bill would be far too high if i did that_

_PSL: oh right, okay  
  
_

Clarke tries to think of a way around the phone charges. She seeks Harper’s advice, but Harper has no suggestions. This is an ongoing problem with the line – it is not toll-free. Clarke wracks her brain, trying to think of how best to continue the conversation.

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

Clarke’s breath catches, relieved that she does not have to figure out what to say, but also unsure of what to expect.

_Visitor: what now?_

_PSL: we can talk about another small thing, if you’d like_

_Visitor: i think i can do that_

_PSL: okay_

_Visitor: what is the next small thing then?_

_PSL: you tell me  
  
_

A pause.

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

It takes time. Clarke imagines them struggling over the keyboard, trying to find the right words. She wishes there was a way for her to make it easier, but that is not how life works.  


_Visitor: i think i would rather have you ask another question_

_PSL: okay, sure_

_Visitor: okay_

_PSL: did she enjoy listening to music?_

_Visitor: yes, of course_

_PSL: what kind of music?  
  
_

A pause, and then:

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

_Visitor: she used to listen to bands with weird names that most normal people have never even heard of_

_PSL: like what?_

_Visitor: this one band called Grounder Attack was her favourite_

_PSL: i haven’t heard of them_

_Visitor: i didn't think so_

_Visitor: i used to tease her and call her a hipster_

_Visitor: she hated that_

_PSL: well, hipsters never want to admit that they’re hipsters :P_

_Visitor: that is very true_

_Visitor: :)  
  
_

Clarke is irrationally pleased that the chatter has chosen to throw in a smiley face, almost as an afterthought. She wonders if they give as much significance to it as Clarke does. Probably not. Clarke had been worried that her little comment would be taken the wrong way, but this did not happen, and Clarke is glad.

_Visitor: i made the mistake of calling her emo once and she threw a book at my head_

_PSL: oh no, was it a heavy book?_

_Visitor: it was an unabridged copy of les mis_

_PSL: ouch!_

_Visitor: fortunately, i have very fast reflexes_

_Visitor: the only damage that was done was to the book as it hit the wall_

_PSL: poor book_

_Visitor: yes, it was never quite the same after that  
  
_

Clarke can’t help the little chuckle she lets out, nor the smile that spreads across her face at this little anecdote.

_Visitor: i bought her a new copy to make up for it_

_PSL: that was nice of you_

_Visitor: she was weirdly OCD about her books_

_Visitor: they had to be in perfect condition_

_Visitor: les mis was her favourite_

_PSL: ah, a fan of the classics!_

_Visitor: yes_

_Visitor: she dragged me to the movie when it came out  
  
_

Clarke is surprised by this, and wonders how long they were together.

_PSL: what did you think of it?_

_Visitor: too much singing  
  
_

Clarke actually laughs at this, and Harper looks over at her with a curious smile.

“Is the chatter making jokes now?” she asks incredulously, leaning over to take a look at the chat herself.

“I think so,” Clarke replies in amazement.

“Well, then we know you’re doing a good job.”

“I hope so.”  
  


_PSL: i suppose that’s fair_

_PSL: what did she think of the movie?_

_Visitor: she loved it, of course  
  
_

A quick Google search tells her that _Les Miserables_ came out Christmas 2012. Almost two and a half years ago.

_PSL: well, she has better taste than you do  
  
_

Clarke tenses after she hits enter. Perhaps that was going a bit too far, being a bit too familiar. She hopes she has not screwed everything up.

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

_Visitor: yes she does  
  
_

After a beat:

_Visitor: did_

Clarke mentally chastises herself for her stupid mistake. She let herself get carried away with the conversation. She does not want to say another wrong thing, so she chooses to wait it out instead. She does not have to wait long.

_Visitor: have you seen it?  
  
_

Clarke is surprised by the question. She does not understand why they would care whether she has seen it, but she responds anyway.

_PSL: yes, and I quite liked it_

_PSL: I am a fan of the singing  
  
_

Clarke is drawn out of the conversation by another beep from her phone.

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

**_\-- 01-04-2015 Weds --_**

**12.07AM  
******Octopus Blake**  
** Bro it’s April

 **12.07AM  
******Octopus Blake**  
** Like wtf

 **12.07AM  
****Goldilocks Griffin  
** Shhh can we not?  
 

_Visitor: well to each his own_

_Visitor: or her own I guess  
  
_

Clarke waits.  


_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

_Visitor: just her presence made everything easier, made me smile_

_Visitor: she cared about everything and everyone_

_Visitor: she would always call me before every midterm or exam or game or whatever, just to wish me luck and tell me that i am amazing_

_Visitor: she would tell me that i was going to change the world_

_Visitor: she used to say that I shined brighter than the stars  
  
_

Clarke soaks up the words, reading them with a somewhat sappy smile on her face, building up an image in her mind of this girl who clearly adored her chatter. And her chatter clearly adored her right back. Clarke wonders if there is a better term for this person than ‘chatter’ but nothing springs to mind. There is another pause from the other side. Clarke does not want to interrupt, but she also wants to reassure the chatter that she is still there, still listening. Harper tells her to just wait, let the chatter get it out. Clarke nods in agreement. She waits. Her phone beeps and she looks down to read the text.

 **12.10AM  
******Octopus Blake**  
** This is a serious matter 

 **12.11AM  
****Goldilocks Griffin  
** I’m not ready to accept that it’s April yet, okay?

It seems like her chatter is done, at least for the time being.

 _PSL: she sounds like a truly wonderful person  
_  

“Can I thank her for talking to me? Can I say it was a huge step or something?” Clarke asked.

“Yeah, of course. Recognizing and applauding their steps is a big part of offering support. You’re doing really well, Clarke!”

Clarke is grateful for the reassurance. She does not know why she keeps doubting herself so much. She just does not want to say the wrong thing.

_PSL: thank you for telling me about her_

_PSL: that was very brave of you_

_Visitor: was it really?_

_PSL: yes, it was a huge step and it can’t have been easy for you, so thank you_

_Visitor: right  
  
_

This is followed by yet another pause, and Clarke is beginning to feel like maybe she actually _did_ say something wrong. Perhaps it had come off as insincere or something. She hopes that isn’t the case. She is pulled out of her worrying by the same three words.

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

One of the phones in the hub starts to ring, and Clarke shares a surprised look with Harper. Harper goes to answer the phone, and Clarke is a little uncomfortable with the knowledge that she is now alone in this conversation.

“You’ve got this,” Harper says before picking up the phone. Clarke tries to tune out the call as she focuses on her chat.

_Visitor: god i loved her so much_

_Visitor: she was intelligent and kind and too good for me in every possible way_

_Visitor: but through some miracle, she was mine_

_Visitor: for some reason, she loved me  
  
_

Another brief pause.

_Visitor: and now she is gone_

_Visitor: and i am alone once again  
  
_

Clarke gulps. She can’t help but focus on the word ‘again.’ Why were they alone before?Her phone beeps, but she simply cannot bring herself to tear her eyes away from the computer screen.

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

_Visitor: and everything reminds me of her_

_Visitor: songs and books and movies and TV shows and food and just about everything is laced with memories of her_

_Visitor: even my own damn room feels like some sort of crypt because everything is connected to her, it all leads back to her_

_Visitor: i have put away all the photos but she is still just everywhere and it still feels like i am drowning in her  
  
_

Clarke waits a few moments to let the words sink in, to let the chatter settle down a bit. It might just be in her own head, but Clarke imagines them breathing deeply and working themselves up. So she gives them a moment before replying.

_PSL: that sounds like a lot to deal with_

_Visitor: you have no idea_

_Visitor: or maybe you do, i do not know_

_Visitor: i hope you have never been through anything like this  
  
_

Once again, Clarke is taken aback by the chatter’s consideration of her.

_PSL: no i haven’t, but i imagine it must be very difficult_

_Visitor: you are not wrong  
  
_

Another pause, longer this time.

_PSL: why did you put away all of the photos?  
  
_

Two seconds of hesitation, and then:

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

_Visitor: it makes it easier_

_PSL: does it really?_

_Visitor: no not really, but it’s something_

_PSL: it’s okay to need more time_

_Visitor: it has already been six months_

_PSL: why do you feel the need to set a timeline on yourself?_

_Visitor: because i have things to do, classes to pass, responsibilities, and i cannot afford to sit around and wallow indefinitely_

_Visitor: i need to stop being so weak  
  
_

Clarke gasps. Throughout this entire conversation she has thought many things, but not once has she thought that the visitor seemed _weak.  
  
_

_PSL: why would you say that you are weak?  
  
_

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

The three words disappear and no new message is sent. Clarke begins to worry. It is another whole minute before anything happens

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

_Visitor: because if there is one thing i have learned from this, it is that love is weakness, and i am so tired of being weak  
  
_

Clarke does not know how to respond initially. It is not her place to disagree with the chatter. It is not her place to tell her that _love is not weakness.  
  
_

_PSL: It is okay if this is taking a lot time. Everyone heals at their own pace. That does not make you weak.  
  
_

Another pause. Clarke waits. She checks her phone just to give herself something to do.

 **12.15AM  
******Octopus Blake**  
** Neither am I. We can live in denial together.

 _Visitor: perhaps  
_

The pause that ensues is so long that Clarke wonders if this is going to be the end of the conversation.  
 

_Visitor: she was always a lot better with words than me_

_Visitor: she always knew exactly what to say, exactly what i needed to hear_

_Visitor: i can’t help but think thta she would know hiw to make it stop hurting_

_Visitor: but then i remmeber that sheis no longer here and she wll never be here again and i will never haer her voice again and i have to accept that  
_

Clarke notes with anguish the way the words have become less clear, the typos that have suddenly appeared when earlier there were none. She cannot help imagine that tears are clouding the chatter’s eyes, making it harder to type. She hopes this is not the case.

_Visitor: and i cant make it stop hurting_

_  
_ Clarke does not know what to do. She does not know how she can help. She wishes she had more to offer. All she has are a few words.  
 

 _PSL: is there anything that helps at all?  
_  

 _Visitor is typing…  
_

_Visitor: i do not know  
  
_

It had taken them almost an two minutes to type out four words. Clarke imagines them typing, deleting, re-typing. Hesitating. Confused. Her heart aches for this person who she knows virtually nothing about.

_PSL: okay_

_Visitor: yeah_

_PSL: is there anyone in your life who you can talk to about the way you feel?  
  
_

Clarke recalls how they mentioned not having many friends, but surely they have at least one or two, maybe even from high school. Or maybe a sibling or a parent they can talk to.

_PSL: perhaps a family member, or a close friend?_

_Visitor: i do not have very many close friends. the few that i do have were also her friends, and they all look at me as though i am missing half of myself. i do not care for this look.  
  
_

Clarke can understand the hatred of what she likes to call the ‘pity stare.’ She has felt it too, after her father died. She is about to reply, but she sees that the chatter is typing, so she holds off.

_Visitor: as for family…  
  
_

Hesitation. A pause. They must really be thinking through what they want to say. Clarke hopes this is not too difficult for them.

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

_Visitor: they would not care to hear about what I am going through_

_PSL: why would you say that?  
  
_

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

Clarke is nervous about where this will take the conversation. Family stuff will probably open up a whole new can of worms. Clarke is patient. She waits.

_Visitor: it is the truth  
  
_

Clarke still waits, somehow knowing that they have more to say on the matter. She is right.

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

It takes a while. This is either going to be long, or they are doing a lot of deleting and re-typing. Maybe both.

_Visitor: my parents are not exactly thrilled by the fact that their daughter is into girls. ever since i came out to them we have not spoken all that much… or at all. i somehow find it hard to believe that they would be empathetic if i went crying to them about my dead girlfriend._

_Visitor: not that i ever cry about it.  
  
_

Clarke is struck by the bluntness of her words – and it is a _her,_ that much is certain. There is so much packed into this one message that Clarke does not even know where to begin. This is the first time that the chatter has referred to _her_ as a ‘girlfriend’ and Clarke feels like this is somehow a big deal, but she will not say anything about it.

She cannot help but notice the way her chatter has started to use periods now, and how this makes the sentences seem more clipped and somehow detached. Like the chatter is trying to dissociate herself from the words, or to make them end more quickly.

 _I’m thinking way too much about punctuation,_ Clarke tells herself. _Not everyone is as weird as I am about it. It probably doesn’t mean anything.  
_

She wants to ask how long it has been since she came out to her parents. She wants to comment on the fact that she just said she _never cries._ She wants to tell her that sometimes parents suck, but it will be okay. She wants to tell her that it is okay to cry.

She does not say any of this.

_PSL: that sounds like a very difficult thing to go through_

_Visitor: it was_

_Visitor: but she helped me get through it_

_Visitor: i would not have been able to get through it without her_

_Visitor: now i will have to go through my whole life without her and i do not know how to do that  
  
_

A pause.

_Visitor: it is becoming harder to ignore the pain  
  
_

Clarke considers her next words carefully before deciding that it is okay to say.

_PSL: have you ever tried to let yourself feel that pain and sadness?_

_Visitor: why on earth would i want to do that?  
  
_

Clarke sighs. She knows that this is not something her chatter will agree with. She will not be amenable to this notion of acknowledging pain – or, as she calls it, _weakness._ Clarke wonders if it is even worth explaining. She decides that it is.  


_PSL: it’s okay to let yourself feel sad_

_PSL: sometimes, you have to let yourself feel these things before you can move on_

_Visitor: i am afraid I have to disagree with you there_

_PSL: fair enough  
  
_

Clarke wonders if the chatter will end the conversation now. At any time, she can choose to close the chat and it will be gone, over. Clarke really has no say in the matter.

There is a longer pause than normal. Clarke does not know what to do, but for some reason she feels like she should not be the one to break this silence. Her chatter does not appear to want to end the conversation, or else she would have done so, so Clarke waits. 

Finally:

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

_Visitor: what if i cannot move on?_

_Visitor: what if it just feels… wrong  
  
_

The fear that clearly lies underneath these words eats at Clarke’s heart.

_PSL: it’s understandable that you would feel that way  
  
_

What Clarke does not say is that _she_ would have wanted her to move on. That was not Clarke’s place. It would be wrong of her to make a statement like that, when she does not really know the chatter, let alone her late girlfriend. Fortunately, Clarke does not need to say any of this.

_Visitor: i know that she would want me to move on and be happy, find someone else, ride off into the sunset or whatever_

_Visitor: i know she would want that for me_

_PSL: i would have to agree with that_

_Visitor: that’s easier said than done though_

_PSL: do you think maybe you might be thinking of moving on, but it just feels really scary?_

_Visitor: well that is an interesting question_

_Visitor: touché  
_ _  
_

Clarke smiles.

_Visitor: but there is more to it than just that…_

_PSL: of course! this is a very complicated situation, with complicated emotions_

_PSL: there is no reason to rush  
  
_

“It’s 1.03,” Harper says suddenly, causing Clarke to jump a little in surprise. She has been so focused on the conversation that she did not even noticed when Harper had hung up her call. She does not think to ask what the call was about, even though you were supposed to debrief with your co-listener after every call.

“Oh, you’re right. I didn’t even realise that much time had passed.”

“We’ll have to end the chat soon.”

“Yeah, it seems to be winding down, I think.”

“That’s good. What did I miss while I was on the call?” 

Clarke scrolls the chat up to let Harper skim through the conversation.

“Wow…” 

“Yeah.” 

“Guess you were right about it not being a guy, eh?”

“Mhmm.”

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

“It’s good that she sees that her girlfriend would want to move on. She seems to know where she has to go from here. This is good,” Harper says with a nod and a slight smile.

“Yeah. I wish I could somehow encourage her to try talking to her friends again, but that might be pushing it. I’m just glad she was able to talk about her girlfriend a bit, at least.”

“Yeah, that alone is definitely a huge thing,” Harper assures her. “You did really well!”

_Visitor: can I make it even more complicated?  
  
_

Clarke is not sure what this means, and she gives Harper a puzzled look. Harper shrugs.  
 

_PSL: I’m not quite sure what you mean_

_Visitor: i mean, can i say something that will make this all even more complicated?_

_PSL: oh, of course!  
  
_

The words are sent without any hesitation, without thinking about it. It’s only after they are sent that Clarke glances at the time on the screen. 1.06AM. This will probably not end very soon. She voices this concern to Harper.

“Probably not,” Harper agrees. “Who knows what this new thing is. It’ll probably take a while to properly discuss.”

“I don’t mind staying behind to talk to her for a while longer,” Clarke says automatically, not wanting to leave the chatter hanging. “You can totally go though!”

“Oh, no, of course not! I’ll stay with you. I don’t mind staying for a while. She seems like she really needs to talk.”

Clarke is grateful. They both have put a lot of effort into this chat, so they both want to see it through.

_Visitor: it was my fault. i was driving that night.  
  
_

Clarke gulps.

“Does she mean what I think she means?” Clarke whispers.

“I think so…” Harper responds hesitantly.

“Shit.”

_Visitor: it’s my fault_

_Visitor: i tried to do everything right, i didn’t drink at all and i made sure we left the party at a decent hour_

_Visitor: but we still crashed_

_Visitor: and it was my fault because i was driving too fast as usual and not being careful enough and i did not keep my eye on the drunk moron swerving around in his car ahead of us_

_Visitor: because she was with me that night, she was thrown through the windshield, she broke 27 different bones, and she bled out before the ambulance could even get there_

_Visitor: it will never not be my fault_

_Visitor: this pain and guilt will never go away, and i do not even deserve to be relieved of it_

_Visitor: i have to learn to just… live with it_

_Visitor: i have to learn to not care  
  
_

There was no way this was going to wind down any time soon.

“What on earth do I say to that?” Clarke asks in a strained voice, trying to think back to her training several months ago. “Do I say that it was an accident, and not her fault? But she’s probably already heard that a bunch of times from a lot of people. Maybe I should just say something to validate her feelings? I don’t know. What do you think?”

“I guess... you can’t go wrong with validating."  
 

_PSL: that’s an awful lot of guilt to hold on to on your own for six months_

_Visitor: yes_

_Visitor: i am afraid i am not very good at dealing with it on my own though_

_Visitor: i do not know what ‘dealing with it’ would even look like_

_PSL: well, I’m glad you came to talk to the line_

_Visitor: me too, actually_

_PSL: would you like to talk about that night a bit more?_

_Visitor: not particularly, but i suppose i can_

_PSL: only if you feel comfortable talking about it  
  
_

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

Clarke’s phone buzzes.

 **1.15AM  
******Octopus Blake**  
** It’s a quarter after one, I’m all alone and I neeeed you noowww  
 

Clarke rolls her eyes.

 **1.15AM  
****Goldilocks Griffin  
** Get back to your essay you slacker

 **1.16AM  
****Goldilocks Griffin  
** I’m going to be home slightly late.

 **1.16AM  
******Octopus Blake**  
** Aw, okaayyy

_Visitor: it was Halloween_

_Visitor: she was dressed as Olaf and despite my many protests she made me go as Sven_

_Visitor: frozen was one of our favourite movies_

_Visitor: we went to a party in her home town thrown by her friends from high school, about a 40 minute drive from Ark_

_Visitor: i was designated driver so i did not drink at all that night_

_PSL: you said you left the party early?_

_Visitor: yes, i did not want to stay out too late because of the drive back… people get crazy on Halloween so i did not want to get caught up in late-night madness_

_Visitor: we were out of there by 12.30 and we headed straight back  
  
_

“She really did do everything right!” Clarke exclaims.

“Sometimes I guess that just isn’t enough,” Harper says sadly.  
 

_PSL: it sounds like you were being really responsible_

_Visitor: not responsible enough_

_Visitor: she was not wearing her seatbelt, but i was_

_Visitor: every single day since that night, i wish it could have been the other way round_

_Visitor: virtually every night in my dreams, i make her put on that belt_

_Visitor: if i had just done that then everything might be different_

_PSL: there was no way you could have known what was going to happen_

_Visitor: that is no excuse_

_Visitor: i should have known better_

_Visitor: we were almost at our exit, she was saying silly things in the car the way she always did when she was a bit tipsy, and i let myself get distracted_

_Visitor: the car in front of us was swerving dangerously everywhere but i did not give it any importance. i should have kept my distance from it. that was my mistake. when he suddenly hit the brakes and tried to reverse on the freaking highway like a moron, my car slammed right into his_

_Visitor: airbags went off. she went flying through the windshield. I don’t remember much, but I remember trying to crawl out of the car to find her but the damn door was jammed_

_Visitor: i just about had enough sense to dial 911 before my head started spinning too much to stay awake. i had to wait there, trapped in my car, as she bled out in the middle of the road all alone  
  
_

A brief pause. Clarke and Harper look at each other solemnly.

_Visitor: they told me later that it had been painless for her, but i do not know if i believe them_

_PSL: did you get hurt as well that night?_

_Visitor: physically?_

_Visitor: five fractured ribs, a couple stitches, a fairly serious concussion, and some serious whiplash_

_Visitor: I was in the hospital for about two weeks_

_Visitor: the other hurt was a lot worse than the physical hurt  
  
_

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

_Visitor: it never stops hurting_

_PSL: do you think it ever will?  
  
_

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

_Visitor: i do not deserve to stop hurting  
  
_

Clarke has to think through her response. Guilt is a very tricky emotion to deal with. It’s probably the hardest one to get over, because, just as the chatter had said, you don’t feel like you deserve to get over it. This girl probably would not respond well to something like _‘it wasn’t your fault’_ because she would not believe it. There must be a way to validate her feelings of guilt without explicitly agreeing with it.

_PSL: even if you feel like you have done something wrong, that does not mean you deserve to be punished_

_Visitor: because of me she is gone_

_Visitor: i do not deserve to be able to just move on_

_PSL: even though you think she would want you to?  
  
_

A pause.

_Visitor: fair point_

_Visitor: i am certain that she would want that for me_

_PSL: okay_

_Visitor: she would not blame me  
  
_

“This is good, right?” Clarke says uncertainly. Harper nods. Clarke still feels like there is more to this. Surely it can’t be his simple. Once again, she is right.

_Visitor: that does not stop me from blaming myself_

_Visitor: i am my own worst enemy, in this case_

_Visitor: i ended her life… surely I do not deserve to be forgiven_

_Visitor: right?  
  
_

Clarke gulps. This is a plea for absolution, for forgiveness. Clarke does not know if it is her place to give these things, but this chatter will believe whatever it is she has to say. Clarke is careful with her choice of words.

_PSL: people make mistakes. you’re only human… and accidents happen_

_PSL: punishing yourself will not make anyone feel any better, least of all you_

_Visitor: and it will not bring her back_

_PSL: no, it won’t_

_Visitor: nothing will bring her back  
  
_

A pause.  
 

_Visitor: i suppose there is some truth to what you are saying_

_PSL: i’m glad you think that  
  
_

“This is good. It looks like it’s winding down again. We can probably lead to a close soon,” Harper says, pleased. Though Clarke agrees that this part of the conversation is winding down, she does not know whether her chatter is in a place where she can be left alone just yet.

_Visitor: I do not know what comes next  
  
_

“Oh no, this won’t end soon,” Harper says with a sigh. “It’s already 1.28. We’ll have to tell her that the line is closing. We can give her the number for Good-To-Talk.” 

“I don’t know how I feel about leaving her, though,” Clarke replies hesitantly.

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

“Yeah, I really don’t want to either, but honestly it feels like we could be here until 3AM and it wont be any easier to end the conversation.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

_Visitor: I do not want to simply forget about her  
  
_

“We can’t stay here all night, Clarke. I know it sucks, and I hate to do this as well, but…”

“Yeah…”

“Next chance you get, just tell her that, unfortunately, the line is closing.”

“I guess…”

_PSL: why do you think you’ll forget her?  
  
_

“Maybe we shouldn’t be asking questions,” Harper suggests. “That’ll make it go longer.”

“Oh, you’re right. My bad,” Clarke says sheepishly. “I guess we can’t be here forever.”

_Visitor: is that not what moving on is?_

_PSL: not necessarily_

_Visitor: then what is it?_

_PSL: i don’t think i can tell you what it is because it’s different for everyone  
  
_

“Ah, I can’t end it! It’s too hard!” Clarke exclaims.

“God, there really is no opening for it,” Harper replies with equal concern. “I don’t know.”

“We have to do it though, I suppose,” Clarke sighs.

“Yeah. We still have to log the chat after, and I have to log my call from before. And I have 8.30 class!”

“Oh, wow, I didn’t know that!” Clarke says, suddenly feeling bad for Harper.

Clarke begins typing out a reply.

 _Unfortunately, the line is closing now, so I’ll have to go. If you feel like you would like to talk further, you can call Good-To-Talk toll-free at 905-416-9988. You can also come back to the peer support line another night._

Before she can hit enter, she sees the three words that make her freeze

_Visitor is typing…  
  
_

Clarke copies the text and then deletes it.

_Visitor: I do not know what moving on would be for me_

_PSL: it will take time to figure out  
  
_

Clarke pastes the message again and gets ready to hit enter, but she is still hesitant.

“Just do it before she can say something else that makes it even harder to end,” Harper says hesitantly. Neither of them wants to do this, but they are left with little choice. 

“I don’t know.” 

Clarke is about to hit the backspace button to edit the message a bit when she accidentally hits enter.

 _PSL: Unfortunately, the line is closing now, so I’ll have to go. If you feel like you would like to talk further, you can call Good-To-Talk toll-free at 905-416-9988. You can also come back to the peer support line another night.  
_  

“No!” she exclaims. “I hit enter by mistake. Shit! No!”

“It’s okay,” Harper soothes her. “It had to be done anyway. It's okay.”

Clarke is still unhappy about the way this happened. For some reason, she feels like she wasn’t ready for it to end.

_Visitor: oh  
  
_

“My heart is breaking here,” Clarke groaned. “She seems upset.”

“I know, God.”

_PSL: i’m really sorry_

_Visitor: i understand_

_Visitor: if i come back will i get to talk to you again?  
  
_

“Oh, God.”

_PSL: we have a lot of volunteers, and it will probably be a different person next time_

_PSL: but I guarantee that anyone else on the line will be just as capable of supporting you_

_Visitor: but I would have to explain everything all over again  
  
_

Clarke can only imagine how difficult it had been for the chatter this time. She is probably dreading the thought of having to do it all over again.

_Visitor: when is your next shift?_

_PSL: we have a rotating schedule so i don’t really know_

_Visitor: can i ask for you again?  
_

In Clarke’s mind, she is raging against her training. They were told in no uncertain terms that this kind of thing was not allowed. Clarke has never questioned this rule before, but now it seems stupid to her. (In some part of her mind, she knows that it is in place so that the listeners don't invest too much of themselves into helping others, and she of all people knows the importance of this, but she ignores this part of her mind for the time being.) She knows that these chats are being recorded so that they can evaluate the efficacy of the online support. If that were not the case, Clarke would have long since given this person her email address or something so that she could continue to chat with her. But she is new to the line and she does not want to risk it, so she has to leave her chatter hanging, only hoping that they come back later and get support from someone else.  


_PSL: we aren’t really supposed to give out any information about ourselves_

_Visitor: i get it._

__Visitor: i think i feel a little bit better after this_ _

 

_PSL: i'm really happy that i was able to help you feel a bit better_

_Visitor: is there anything you can tell me? a nickname or some kind of clue so that they know i'm talking about you if i ask?_

  
A pause.

_  
Visitor: please?  
  
_

Clarke feels like hurling herself off of some sort of cliff. This part is too difficult for her to handle.

_PSL: i’m really, really sorry_

_Visitor: okay_

_PSL: please do feel free to use the line again though. all of the other listeners will be just as willing to help_

_Visitor: i think i will_

_Visitor: thank you. for everything._

_Visitor: bye  
  
_

_Chat has ended. Visitor has left the conversation.  
  
_

Clarke is surprised by the abruptness and finality of how it ended. She shares a look with Harper.

“At least she said she’d use the line again,” Clarke says weakly. 

A part of Clarke wants to save the transcript of this conversation, for some reason, but she knows that doing so would not be ethical, so she leaves it there and closes it. By the time that both she and Harper are packed up and done logging their respective conversations, it is 1.45. Clarke staggers her way back to her house, exhausted both mentally and physically. Taking off her coat, she knocks on Octavia’s bedroom door.

“Come in!”

Clarke lets herself in. “Hey,” she says tiredly as she flops down beside Octavia on her bed. Octavia has her laptop out and her books spread around her. Clarke has to pull a book out from under her.

“Well, you look exhausted.”

“I am. How’s your essay going?”

“Not bad. I’m on page five.”

“Nice.”

“Are you actually going to get up or do you plan to just lie there like a beached whale?”

“Nap first.”

“Fine.”

This is how they made it through the last all-nighter, with consistent naps or sleep breaks to help boost their energy. Sometimes they were twenty minutes long. Sometimes they were an hour and a half.

“What time is it now?” Clarke mumbles.

“Like 2.15.”

“’Kay, wake me up at three.”

“Okay,” Octavia replies with a light laugh.

 Clarke does not fully recall what exactly happened next, but when she wakes up, it is 9.30AM, her alarm is blaring _La Vie en Rose_ , and she is in her own room.


	2. All I Think About These Days

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I finished this chapter a lot sooner than I thought I would. The first half is Clarke interacting with her friends, and not with Lexa. I personally think it's a lot of fun, but that's just me. Sorry if this is disappointing for anyone! Please bear with me - it's totally necessary. I see this fic as a lot more than just "Clexa angst" or "Clexa feels" (though that is the main part, of course). It's a lot of friendship and brotp feels as well. I pretty much have the rest of the story planned, and I'm SO excited to write it all out. This fic is taking over my life.
> 
> Also, you can now find me on Tumblr at thesummerofrain (there were originally 3 m's because I'm an idiot but I figured out how to change it so.. yeah. In case anyone is wondering!). Feel free to chat/gush/ask questions. I love to talk, as some of you may have guessed, and I'll always respond! :)

Clarke turns off her alarm and rolls back into bed. She doesn’t really need to be up this early. She does not have to be on campus until her pre-presentation group meeting at 2.30. Well, okay, that is not technically true… She has a psych class at 12.30, but they have a handbook with all of the notes and she doesn’t even pay attention in class anyway, so what is the point? She and her other friends in the class have long-since stopped going. 

Clarke closes her eyes, and her thoughts drift back to the conversation from last night.

_Please?_

The word flashes in her mind. Clarke shudders, despite the warmth of her bed. She cannot imagine how difficult it must have been for her chatter to send that one little word.

_And all I said was sorry._

She wonders if her chatter is going to start another chat. She wonders if she will ever find out how she is doing. She decides that she will, if there is anything that she can do about it.

It is around 10.15 when she finally drags herself out of bed to actually make breakfast for once. She is surprised when she sees that Octavia’s door in open. Octavia should be in class, handing in her essay. Clarke walks in to find her standing in front of her mirror, getting ready for the day. 

“Hey, didn’t you have class at 9.30?” Clarke asks, confused.  
  
Octavia turns to her, and Clarke sees the way her eyes are a little red, as though she might be fighting back tears. “I slept through my alarm,” she says quietly. “Now my stupid essay is going to be late.”

“Aw, O, I’m sorry!” Clarke pulls her into a hug, and despite some initial protest, Octavia nuzzles in to Clarke. This is not the first time that Octavia has slept through an alarm.

_I should’ve come to check that she was up when I first woke up._

Octavia is normally not one to cry unless there is something seriously wrong, but Clarke knows that she has not been sleeping well lately. The lack of sleep, combined with her recent fight with her brother, has put her in a less-than-stable emotional state. Not that Octavia will ever admit any of this, of course. It’s always “I’m fine!” with this one. Then again, Clarke has no right to complain – she is exactly the same.

“What time did you set your alarm for?” Clarke asks once Octavia has pulled away.

“I finished the essay around 6 and set my alarm for 8 so I could look over it again before handing it in, but I didn’t even hear it go off. Usually I remember turning it off or something, but I swear I didn’t even hear it this time. 

“What’s the penalty for handing it in late?” 

“I think it’s like 3% so it’s not too bad.”

“That’s good,” Clarke says, trying to reassure her. “Are you going to go hand it in now?”

“Well, no, I still have to write a conclusion.”

Clarke cannot help the “Seriously?” that slips out of her mouth.

“Well, it’s late anyway, so I might as well work on it more to make it better now.”

“Fair enough. Do you want me to read it over and edit it for you, babe?” Clarke asks. She already knows the answer; she has edited countless essays for her best friend – most of them the night before they were due. She enjoys editing, for some strange reason, and she enjoys being able to help Octavia out.

“If you don’t mind,” Octavia says, smiling tiredly.

“Okay, move over so I can look at it, dummy.”

Octavia grins and lies back down on her bed as Clarke takes a seat at the desk.

“How was your shift last night?” Octavia asks

“I got my first chat!” Clarke says without looking up from the essay.

“Really? That’s awesome! What was it like?”

“Well, I can’t go into details… but it was really intense. And it went super late, that’s why I didn’t get home ‘til after 2.” Clarke turns the chair to face Octavia, unable to focus on the essay as she talked about her chat. “I felt so horrid at the end because she obviously still needed to talk, but I couldn’t just stay there forever. And when I said I had to go because the line was closing, she asked if she could like request to chat with me again, but we’re not supposed to do that, and I just felt so bad. I hope she comes to the line again. I hope that she’s okay.”  
 

 _Chat has ended. Visitor has left the conversation._  


Clarke shakes the thought out of her head.

“Aw, you’re such a sweetie, Clarke.”

“Am not,” Clarke grumbles, turning back to the essay in embarrassment.

“Yes, you so are.”

“Whatever, loser. Go take a nap.”

Octavia laughs and rolls over so that she is more comfortable in her bed. 

“What do you mean by this sentence?” Clarke asks after a while. “It makes no sense.”

“Huh? Oh… hmm… I have no idea.”

“Wow.”

“I was tired, okay?” 

They work through it together, and Clarke moves on, occasionally asking Octavia a clarifying question. She does not like to make any changes without asking first. She always has to check, in case she is mistaken.

“This sentence isn’t complete.”

“What?”

“Usually, when you start a sentence with ‘despite’ there is something that happens in spite of something else. Do you see what I mean?”

“Oh… right. Stop looking at me like that, woman. This was done at like four. I was tired.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. Despite the occasional grammatical error or awkwardly worded sentence, this is actually a really good essay, and she is proud of Octavia for pulling this off.

“You’re actually kind of interested in this topic, right?”

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“Well, when you’re interested, the essays are a lot better, like your art history essay last week – that was good. Not like the mess of an essay you made me edit about Marx and that other dude on private property.” 

“Ah… yes. I apologized to you for that one before I made you read it, didn’t I? So let’s just agree to never speak of it again, shall we? Not my proudest moment.”

“Definitely not. When you actually care about the topic, though, your essays are really good, O. Even if you write them at five in the morning! I’m impressed.” 

Octavia smiles proudly at the sincere compliment but says nothing. Clarke knows that she is slightly unsure of her essay writing abilities, and this is precisely why Clarke makes sure to give her genuine compliments whenever she can. 

“Alright, I’m done. Switch with me.”

 

Octavia gets up from the bed reluctantly and stretches slowly as Clarke slides in to take her place. Octavia begins to type out her conclusion as Clarke settles in to her bed.

“Why is your bed so much more comfortable than mine?” Clarke mumbles.

“Because your mattress is pathetically thin, while mine probably weighs more than the two of us combined.” 

“True.”

“Hey, sleepy, don’t get too comfortable. I’m leaving to hand this in soon, and it was hell trying to get you up last night,” Octavia scolds Clarke.

“Oh, yeah… what happened when I got back last night?” 

“Do you not remember?” 

“Not particularly well, no.” 

“Honestly, when you’re tired you’re basically like a drunk person.” 

“Yes, we both already know this, O. What happened?”

“Well, if you must know, I woke you up at three like you asked, and you grumbled something that made no sense before finally sitting up. You promptly dozed right off again, of course, at which point I told you to just go to bed because you were clearly not getting any work done in that state. I had to help you stumble back to your room.”

“Damn… I was pretty tired.”

“I’ve never seen you that tired. You were _snoring_.”

“No!" Clarke gasps. "I wasn’t!”

“Yes, you totally were.”

“Do I usually snore?”

“Nope, I’ve never heard you snore before.”

“Yeah, I think I only ever do it when I’m sick or like really tired. I hope it wasn’t too loud or distracting while you were working.”

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t that loud. You’ve got nothing on Bell.” 

“The fact that I don’t snore _quite_ as loud as your idiot brother is not all that comforting, for some reason.”

“Well, I tried.”

“I was totally exhausted though last night. I literally, and I mean _literally,_ don’t think I have ever been that tired before in my life. All-nighters just don’t agree with me.”

“Definitely not.”

“Plus the chat just drained whatever was left of my mental energy.”

“Aw, poor Clarkie. Tell me more about the chat, then. Will you get to talk to her again?”

“I have no idea. I’d like to, but I don’t know if it’ll happen.”

“Maybe she’ll call in when you’re on another shift this week?”

“No, I don’t think she’d call, but she might chat again. I don’t have another online shift until like the 26th or something, though.”

“That’s a bummer,” Octavia says sympathetically. Then, after a pause, “Hey, do you think I have to have a really long conclusion for this?”

Clarke laughs. “Well, it’s like a ten-page essay, O.” 

“So a decently long conclusion, then?”

“Yeah.”

“Ugh.”

“Why do we keep doing this to ourselves with these last-minute essays?” Clarke says with a sigh.

“Man, I don’t know. That promise we made in first year about never again didn’t work out so well, did it?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Okay, screw it, I can’t work on this any more. I’m done!”

“Do you want me to look over the conclusion?”

“Nah, it isn’t even worth it at this point. But I’m afraid you’re going to have to get up, now, my friend, because I have to go beg a prof to accept my essay late.”

“Ughhh." 

  
Reluctantly, Clarke gets up off of Octavia’s bed, and they both head out of her room. Clarke’s room is right by the door to the house, so they walk the short distance together. 

“Good luck with handing it in,” Clarke says as she turns into her room.

“Thanks! See you later.”

“Later!”  


Once she is on her own again, Clarke’s thoughts revert to the chat.  


_thank you. for everything._  


The next online shift would be on Sunday.

 _But it’s Easter Sunday, dummy! The Line will be closed._  


Clarke sighs. That means the next online shift is Monday. She hopes that her chatter will be okay until then. She wonders who is on for those shifts. Perhaps she can switch in… But, no, she can’t know for sure that the chatter will even come back, and she does have quite a bit of studying to do for her exams (which are approaching a lot faster than she would like). Clarke pulls out her laptop and loads the Google doc that has the schedule for April.

Raven is scheduled again for the 7-10 online shift, and Monty is scheduled for the 10-1. Clarke smiles, happy with the way this worked out. She is close enough to both Raven and Monty that she feels comfortable talking to them about it. She types up a quick text to send to the both of them, but then decides against it. Perhaps she will send it closer to the day. It is only Wednesday, after all. It might seem a bit weird. And, in all honesty, Clarke is not entirely sure why she is so invested in this person, her chatter, anyway.

Deciding that it is about time she pulled up her presentation slides again, Clarke goes back to practicing. Her productivity does not last very long at all. She switches to Facebook and opens the group chat that her Cell Bio group uses to communicate. She had muted it last night and, as expected, there are over 100 notifications waiting for her. She is not sure if she is bothered to read them all, but her group is usually very entertaining, so she decides to do it. Anything to put off actual work.

It is the same as always: Jasper and Roma were up all night _freaking the hell out_ ; Monroe was up at the crack of dawn (also freaking out), and even though Anya stressed out a couple of times, for the most part, she had remained quite calm. Anya is technically a third year, but since she had taken a year off to travel and such after her first year (Clarke has to remind herself that she is not _that_ jealous), she is now with the second years in their classes. She had been reluctant at first, but eventually the group had grown on her. Clarke is grateful for her level-headedness, because there is only so much she can do on her own to calm the madness of the rest of the group when they all get together. Especially since she does tend to get excited herself on occasion. Not really nervous or anxious, really, but… enthusiastic.

Clarke is honestly very happy that she has been blessed by the Gods of group work and been given this group, because they all get along so well. 90% of the time, their group chats revolve around completely irrelevant things. They are constantly talking to one another. A few weeks ago, Monroe asked the group if someone could please bring feminine hygiene products to the meeting, and the best part was that _Jasper_ of all people was the one who went out and got them for her. They were only grouped together in January, but it feels like much longer than that. They have even colour-coordinated their outfits for the presentation today. They are cute, no doubt about it.

Clarke gives up on the slides and goes to make herself breakfast. After taking her time with this, she is forced to actually look over her presentation out of sheer boredom. Thankfully, she is distracted by an incoming text.

 **12.09PM**  
Octopus Blake  
Got it in! I don’t think he’s gonna give me a  
late penalty!

 

 **12.10PM  
** **Goldilocks Griffin**

Yaaaay!! :)

**12.18PM**  
Octopus Blake  
He just asked about the book and what I  
thought about it and stuff

 **12.18PM**  
Octopus Blake  
Which was cool 

 **12.18PM**  
Octopus Blake  
He’s very quiet and kind of awkward 

 **12.18PM**  
Octopus Blake  
But nice

 

 **12.19PM**  
Goldilocks Griffin  
Hahaha

 **12.19PM**  
Goldilocks Griffin  
Is this a prof I’ve seen in one of the  
many classes that I’ve crashed?

 

 **12.20PM**  
Octopus Blake  
Noo different one

 

 _Okay, time to work, Clarke. At least for an hour._ And she does. Sort of.

When 1.30 rolls around, she decides that it is time to get ready for her presentation. She pulls on her one pair of black formal pants (she think grown-ups call them slacks, maybe?), the new maroon top that she had purchased to go along with the group’s colour theme, and her one really nice black blazer. Clarke is not big on clothing, not like Octavia is, but she actually loves this blazer. It is the one nice article of clothing that Clarke owns. Once she is ready, she heads out the door, ready to meet up with her group. 

Everyone, as usual, is nervous. Jasper and Anya are going to be presenting for the group, and Jasper is almost hyperventilating.

“Jasper, if you were going to be this nervous, why did you volunteer as tribute for this presentation?” Roma asks with a laugh.

“I don’t know… seemed like a good idea at the time. But, I mean, I got this. I know it. Right? I know this, right, Clarke?”

“You’ve got this, Jasper,” Clarke says with a smile.

“You are all idiots,” Anya says with an affectionate half-smile

“No need to sound so patronizing, mother hen,” Jasper says sourly. Anya’s reluctant smile only grows at the nickname the group has given her. 

“Well, come along, children. Let’s practice,” Anya says.

* *

The presentation goes fabulously well. Anya and Jasper kill it, and the professor and his lab are impressed by the work they have done all term. Monroe hears one of the grad students talking about publishing an actual review article based on their work. The group is on cloud nine.

Of course, they have to take the customary post-presentation group pictures that _every single group_ takes.

“Guys, can we not take them in the atrium though? _Everyone_ takes pictures by the fountain in the atrium. Let’s be different,” Clarke grumbles. She is not big on photos. 

“I agree,” Jasper says. As the only boy in the group, his words are often drowned out, but he never seems to mind. 

“Let’s take them by that arch out on campus. It’s like 100 years old and it looks so cool,” Clarke suggests. 

The group agrees and they move out as one. When they get there, it is five minutes before their statistics class, so they hurry and ask random passers-by to take photos for them. Some of the poses are quite ridiculous. Clarke has never had so much fun posing for pictures. They take enough so that they all have a wide selection to choose from.

“We’re all changing our cover photos, guys,” Jasper demands. “No exceptions.”

During stats class, they are all sitting close to each other and sharing the photos on their Facebook group, calling dibs for cover photos and profile pictures. Halfway through the 50-minute lecture, they have learnt nothing about statistics, but they all have new cover photos.

**Facebook chat**

**6.02PM**

_Clarke: guys, random people who I don’t even know are liking my cover photo._

_Roma: lolol sameee_

_Jasper: I feel so popular_

_Monroe: it’s because we’ve tagged each other_

_Clarke: Anya, who the heck are Lincoln Washington and Lexa Heda?_

_Anya: close friends of mine_

_Anya: who is Octavia Blake?_

_Clarke: My housemate._

_Jasper: and who’s Abby Griffin?_

_Clarke: Oh God… that’s my mom._

_Roma: Aw, your mom liked my cover photo too!_

_Anya: Mine as well_

_Clarke: God_

_Jasper: that’s so cuteee_

_Monroe: guys, can we at least pretend to pay attention to stats for once?_

_Jasper: No, M. We aren’t here to pay attention._

_Monroe: Then why are we here?_

_Anya: To change our cover photos and discuss our friends, apparently_

_Monroe: Guys, I’m trying to learn here_

_Jasper: boooo_

_Roma: Mute the chat, Monroe_

_Roma: duuhhhh_

_Monroe: then I’ll just come back to 12453462 notifications_

_Clarke: Probably._

_Anya: how much longer until this torture is over?_

_Roma: 15 more minutes_

_Clarke: God, how is that even possible??_

_Monroe: I’m actually paying attention and I don’t even know what he’s talking about_

_Roma: Why do I bother to come to these?_

_Clarke: I know I always say to be confident, but I’m so failing this class._

**

Friday is Good Friday, so there are no classes. For once, Clarke does not have a single group meeting all weekend (she does not know what to do with all of this extra time, if she is being honest), so she can actually go home for the long weekend on Thursday night. As is their tradition, Octavia and her brother Bellamy join the Griffins for the Easter holiday. The girls have not seen Bellamy in quite a long time, and Clarke is eager to catch up. 

“How’s the out-of-work band member job treating you, Bell?” Clarke asks with a smirk. Bellamy sticks his tongue out at her.

“It’s going great, thanks. We’re definitely not out of work. We’ve played a bunch of –“

“That’s lovely, Bell. Nobody actually cares,” Octavia interrupts as she walks past him to sit beside Clarke.

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “Is she still mad about that lowlife creep I warned to stay away from her?” he asks Clarke in a mock whisper.

“Yup,” Clarke replies with a grin.

“You didn’t just warn him, you jerk, you sent him a Facebook message threatening to cut his balls up into tiny pieces and feed them to our dog!”

“Ah, right. I forgot the particulars.”

_“We don’t even have a dog.”_

“That’s a minor detail.”

Clarke can no longer hold in her laughter.

“Don’t laugh, you terrible friend. You’re the one that told him!”

Clarke grins, knowing that Octavia is not really upset with her. Or Bellamy, for that matter. The Blake siblings are perpetually fighting, but at the end of the day, they love each other more than anything, and they look out for each other. All they really have is each other. Well, they also have the Griffins. 

“I have no ragrets,” Bellamy says coolly. Octavia tries very hard not to smile at that. “One day, you’ll find a guy who’s not a lowlife or a creep, O. And on that day, I won’t be in the way at all. Promise.”

“Whatever, _dad.”_

Bellamy just smiles. 

The rest of the weekend passes in a similar, easy fashion. There is a lot of lazing around and not much studying that goes on. Easter isn’t really a big thing in the Griffin household, but there is a ton of good food, with plenty of leftovers. And that means there will be plenty of food to take back to school. The thought makes Clarke smile. She is not a big fan of cooking.  
 

On Sunday afternoon, just before she and Octavia are set to leave, Clarke has a moment alone with her mother and she tells her about the conversation that has been on her mind for days. She does not go into details, but her mother understands. Her mother always understands.

“Sweety, there’s only so much you can do for this girl,” Abby says delicately.

“I know, mom,” Clarke replies in a dejected tone. “I just… I just want to know that she’s okay, you know? I feel like I may have actually helped her, and I really think she needed it. I hate the idea of her being alone somewhere. And I hope I didn’t mess everything up by ending the conversation so abruptly. I hope she comes back to the line, so I can hear more about what’s going on with her.”

“You’re a very caring person, Clarke, but you can’t take care of everyone. You can’t make her chat with the line again.”

“I wish.” 

“I know you do, honey.”

“I was thinking of asking Monty and Raven – they have the online shifts tomorrow – to let me know if she comes back. Then I can go back in and –“

“Clarke, this is why I was worried about you doing this peer support thing. I know you, and you get so invested in helping others that you forget to take care of yourself.”

“Well, gee… I wonder where I get that from?” Clarke says sarcastically.

Her mother rolls her eyes, but does not deny the truth of her words. Clarke takes this as a victory. 

“If you can be there for her, then do it. Just be sure to take care of yourself as well, Clarke.”

“I know, mom.”  


Clarke texts both Raven and Monty about letting her know if her chatter comes back. They both agree immediately. She is grateful that her friends don’t even feel the need to ask her any questions about it; they just go with it. She shoots off a second text asking Raven about her health and gets a cheerily positive reply. Clarke is glad that she feels better, and she tries not to feel too guilty for not asking about her health earlier. She really needs to hang out with Raven more often.

Monday night finally rolls around and Clarke is straight-up nervous. She feels silly for it, she cannot quite explain it, but she cannot help it, either. All day she has been unable to focus in class because her mind continuously drifts to the peer support line, wondering if she will hear from her chatter again. She stays at a library on campus with Octavia until 7, supposedly studying for her anatomy exam. She is somewhat ashamed to admit that most of this time is spent on Tumblr. Octavia has given up on trying to yell some sense into Clarke to get her to focus. In her defense, Clarke has managed to learn a bit about the intrinsic muscles of the tongue, but that isn’t saying much considering she has been at it for three hours.

At 7.22 she gets the text that she has been waiting for.

 **7.22PM**  
Ray-Ray Reyes  
Your girl is chatting with the line again

 **7.22PM**  
Princess Griffin  
What is she saying??

  
Clarke tries not to be annoyed when it takes Raven a while to respond. She really does try.

 **7.31PM**  
Ray-Ray Reyes  
She’s talking about being alone

  
7.31PM  
Princess Griffin  
How do you know it’s even the   
same person?

  
**7.32PM**  
Ray-Ray Reyes  
Because she’s just gone on about  
how she was chatting with someone  
on Tuesday night

 **7.32PM**  
Ray-Ray Reyes  
And asking if I maybe know who  
she was speaking to 

 **7.32PM**  
Ray-Ray Reyes  
And whether she might be able to   
speak to you again 

 **7.33PM**  
Ray-Ray Reyes  
So yeah, pretty sure it’s your girl

  
**7.33PM**  
Princess Griffin  
Okay, I’m coming to the hub

Clarke grins at the vaguely annoyed tone of Raven’s texts. She knows that Raven is not actually bothered by this, so Clarke is not too concerned. That’s just how Raven Reyes is.

“O, I’m going to head out now,” Clarke says, already packing up her books and her laptop.

“Has the mystery chatter returned?” Octavia asks quietly, leaning forward so that she is not overheard.

“Yup. Raven just texted me,” Clarke replies. “Tonight probably won’t go as late, though, since it’s only like 7.30 now." 

“Well, I might as well head out too then,” Octavia says. “It’ll just be dull as all hell if I stick around here on my own.”

“Suit yourself. Some people say that the two of us are too co-dependent, but they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Octavia laughs. “Yeah, what do they know?” She eyes the way Clarke is standing by the table ready to go, tapping her feet lightly in her impatience.

“Just go, loser,” Octavia says in an exasperated yet amused tone and a slight shake of her head. “I’ll see you back at home later.”

Clarke grins at her. “You know me too well, O.”

“Damn right I do." 

“See you later tonight,” Clarke says, already beginning to walk away.

“We’re watching Charlie’s Angels tonight, don’t forget!”

“Of course, how could I forget?”

“You liar, you totally forgot,” Octavia says accusingly.

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not. Oh, for God’s sake. I refuse to get into yet another elementary school argument with you. I’ll see you later, O.”

Octavia just laughs.

“Tell Raven I say hello!”

Clarke is at the hub by 7.40 and is greeted by Raven and another boy who she vaguely recognises but cannot name.

“Hey guys,” Clarke says.

“About time you got here,” Raven replies in lieu of any kind of actual greeting. “She’ll be happy to hear from you.” Raven nudges her head towards the computer screen as she speaks.

“Right.”

“So can I just head out then? And you can take over the shift?” Raven asks.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Sweet. I might actually be able to finish off my assignment on time.”

“Good luck with that,” Clarke says with a grin.

Raven gets up from the desk and begins packing up her stuff as Clarke takes her place. A quick scroll through the conversation tells Clarke that not much has happened. Her chatter has been reluctant as ever to open up, and Raven did not push much, knowing that Clarke would soon take over. Clarke is oddly surprised and almost touched by the way the chatter has asked for her, despite how they ended the conversation last time.  Clarke’s phone beeps with a text just as she is coming to the end of the conversation so far.  


_Visitor: yes, i spoke to someone on Tuesday night._

_Visitor: i was actually wondering if it would be possible to speak to them again_

_Visitor: do you maybe know who it was?_

_Visitor: there is more that i would like to say to them_

_PSL: I’m here to listen, if you would care to talk to me._

_Visitor: I would really prefer to talk to the same person as last time, if that is possible  
PSL: Okay, I can try to find her for you_

_Visitor: thank you_

_PSL: Just give me a moment_

_Visitor: okay_  


Clarke smiles a bit at the screen as she pulls out her phone.  
 

 **7.43PM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
I just saw a nun on campus

Sometimes, Clarke wonders about her best friend.

 

 **7.43PM**  
Goldilocks Griffin  
That’s exciting!

 _PSL: hi, this is the volunteer you were chatting with on Tuesday night_  


**7.43PM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
It is

 **7.44PM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
Nuns are rare specimens  


_Visitor: oh_

_Visitor: really?_

_PSL: yes, really_

 

 **7.43PM**  
Goldilocks Griffin  
Good to know.

 

“Hey, Raven, wait!” Clarke calls out just as Raven is about to exit the little room. 

“What’s up, C?” 

“We haven’t hung out in ages, just you, me, and O. Are you down to hang out sometime this week?”

“I’d love that, but there’s just these little things called exams that are getting in the way.”

 

_Visitor: hello again_

  _  
_

“Good point… well, we can hang out at the library and study together.”

 

_PSL: hi_

_PSL: how are you doing tonight?_

  


“Okay, I’m good with that. Text me next time you guys are there.”

“Will do! It’ll probably be tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you nerds then.”

“Bye!”

 

_Visitor: i did not think that I would actually be able to chat with you again_

_PSL: well then, i guess you were mistaken_

_Visitor: so it would seem_

_Visitor: thank you for coming back to speak to me_

_Visitor: i understand that this was not your shift_

_PSL: no it wasn’t, but i don’t really mind at all_

_PSL: i’m happy to talk to you_

_Visitor: okay_  


Clarke has been honest so far, and it feels like it is going okay… but she has no idea where it will go from here. She tries to think back to the conversation from Tuesday, which until recently seemed so fresh in her mind. But now that she actually needs to recall it, nothing specific is coming to her. Great.  


_Visitor is typing…_  


Clarke waits.  


_Visitor: I just wanted to apologize to you for the other night_  


“What?” Clarke says out loud. The other volunteer turns around to look at her with a questioning expression. “Sorry, it’s nothing.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s all good.”

“Okay, then. Let me know if you need anything.” He turns back to his own desk.

_PSL: what do you mean?_

_Visitor: i am sorry for the way i reacted when you had to end the conversation_  
  
  
Visitor is typing…  


_Visitor: I was not in full control of my emotions at the time, and i may have said some rather unfortunate things_

 

Clarke cannot figure out what she is referring to. Clarke does not recall being offended or anything at any point during the chat.  


_Visitor is typing…_  


All she remembers is the way she had to end it so abruptly, and how terrible she felt in doing so.  


_Visitor: i should not have tried to force you to provide me with further information about yourself when you were clearly uncomfortable with the idea_

_Visitor: it was not right of me to do that_

_Visitor: i am sorry_  


Suddenly, she understands.  


_Please.  
_

What the chatter means to say right now is, _I should not have pleaded._ Or perhaps even, _I should not have been weak._

Clarke wonders how much her chatter has been beating herself up over this for the past few days. The thought is almost too painful for Clarke to bear. The last thing she wants to do is be yet another cause for pain or guilt.  


_PSL: there’s absolutely no need to apologise_

_PSL: i understand, and i would have gladly continued talking or given you my name or something, but we really aren’t supposed to do that_

_Visitor: i get it_

_Visitor: it would be difficult to remain anonymous if you gave your names out to any random person who asks_

_PSL: something like that_

_Visitor: right_

 

Clarke does not want her chatter to feel like some ‘random person’ but there’s nothing really that she can say. There is a pause in the conversation.  


_Visitor is typing…_  


The sign disappears after a few seconds. Clarke waits, but nothing seems to be happening, so she starts typing herself.

_PSL: how have you been since we last spoke?_

_Visitor: more or less the same_

A pause.

 _Visitor is typing…_  


_Visitor: i just found out that i got an 85 on one of my essays_  


Clarke grins, feeling an inexplicable sense of pride.  


_PSL: that’s awesome!_

_PSL: well done!_

_Visitor: thank you  
_  

Another pause. Clarke wants to ask what course this essay was for, but that might be pushing the limits of confidentiality once again. This is incredibly frustrating for Clarke.  


_Visitor: how was your Easter weekend?  
_  

Clarke is surprised by the question. She prepares to launch into a semi-detailed description of her weekend, complete with quotes and anecdotes, as is her way. However, she realises that she’s not supposed to be doing that. That is not why she is here. She hesitates.  


_PSL: i did not get nearly as much school stuff done as I should have, but it was fun and relaxing to be back home. thank you for asking!_

_PSL: how was your weekend?_  


The pause drags on this time. Clarke can feel her chatter hesitating, deliberating. She hopes the question was not too prying, but it seemed only appropriate after she had asked how Clarke’s weekend had been.  


_Visitor is typing…_

_Visitor: i remained here at Ark._  


Clarke recalls what the chatter had said about her home in their last conversation.

_ever since i came out to them we have not spoken all that much… or at all._

Clarke wants to ask more about her parents, wants to find out more about her life at home, but the chatter has chosen not to bring up any details about her family, so Clarke lets it go.  
 

 _Visitor: i mostly tried to catch up on my readings_  

A brief pause.

 _Visitor: and I watched about 2 seasons of Friends on Netflix_  


Clarke chuckles quietly to herself at this.  
 

_PSL: Netflix truly is a blessing_

_PSL: and Friends is a great show_

_Visitor: i agree on both counts_  


_Visitor is typing…_

 

It takes quite a while. Clarke wonders whether she is saying something long, or if she is unsure of what she wants to say.  


_Visitor: it was our favourite show to watch together_

_Visitor: me and my girlfriend, i mean_

_Visitor: ex-girlfriend_

_Visitor: late girlfriend_  


_Visitor is typing…_  


_Visitor: I am not quite sure what to call her_  


Clarke’s heart tightens in her chest. She does not know what term she would use, either.

 

_PSL: whatever you feel most comfortable with is probably best_

_Visitor: nothing really feels comfortable anymore, to be honest_

 

_At least she’s being honest._

_Visitor: sorry, that came out more depressing than i had intended_

_PSL: there’s no need to say sorry_

_PSL: you can say anything you want here_

_PSL: it’s okay_

_Visitor: okay_

 

Clarke glances at the time. 8.02. She has two hours before Monty comes in to switch shifts. Plenty of time.  
 

 _PSL: what did you mean when you said that nothing feels comfortable?_  


_Visitor is typing…  
_

_Visitor: nothing feels the same anymore_

_Visitor: nothing feels right_

_Visitor: it always just feels like something is missing_

_Visitor: someone is missing_

_Visitor: she is missing_

_Visitor: I always felt at ease when she was around, even if she was sitting on the other side of the room and just doing her own thing, listening to her music and drawing_  


Clarke is interested by this brief description.

 _She was an artist?_ This idea interests Clarke more than it should. Clarke loves to draw and paint. She feels a faint connection with… what should she call her? She settles on _chatter’s girlfriend.  
_  

_Visitor: she loved to draw_

_Visitor: she would do it at crazy hours of the night_

_Visitor: especially right after midterms or exams_

_Visitor: she used to say it was peaceful_  


Clarke can definitely relate.  


_PSL: what kind of things did she like to draw?_

_Visitor: landscapes were her favourite, and she was brilliant at them_

_Visitor: she could do amazing things just from memory_

_Visitor: and she was just starting to do portraits too_

_Visitor: she asked me so many times if she could draw me_

  
A pause.  
  
_Visitor is typing..._  


_Visitor: i should have said yes_

_Visitor: i should have done so many things_

_Visitor: now i will never get the chance_  


Clarke wonders how many times her heart can break from someone else’s pain.  


_Visitor: it was always “later Cos” or “not now Cos” or “i have to finish this essay Cos”  
_

A pause. Clarke makes a mental note of the name – or nickname, more likely. _Cos._  She wonders what it is short for. She does not ask, of course.  


_Visitor: i just always thought that i would have time_

_Visitor: i thought we had all the time in the world_

_Visitor: i was mistaken_

_Visitor: forever does not exist  
_

Clarke does not know her chatter’s age, but she still feels like she is too young to have to know so much pain. Clarke can recall having similar feelings of regret after her father died. But, as she had realized, regret changes nothing, and it only tarnishes the memories that you do have.  


_Visitor is typing…_  


_Visitor: once again i have come off more depressed than i had intended to_

_Visitor: i am sorry_

_Visitor: i know you told me not to be, but i am still sorry anyway_  


Clarke’s phone beeps. She ignores it.  


_PSL: it’s alright  
_

Her phone beeps again. And then a third time.  


_Visitor: I assure you that I am not depressed_

_Visitor: I am merely... tired_

_Visitor: so very tired_  


The phone beeps yet again. Clarke is beginning to get annoyed with it.  


_PSL: is this an ongoing thing?_

_Visitor: yes_  


A pause.  
 

_Visitor: part of it is probably just lack of sleep, obviously_

_Visitor: but even on the rare occasions when i am able to sleep through the night, i wake up exhausted instead of refreshed_

_Visitor: it feels like my soul is tired_  


Another pause.  


_Visitor: that sounded a lot less stupid in my head_

_Visitor: sorry, forget i said that_

_PSL: it wasn't stupid_  


Clarke’s phone begins to ring. It’s Octavia. Clarke sighs in resignation; she can’t ignore the call.

 _“What is the point of having a phone if you don’t answer your damn texts, woman?”_ Octavia yells before Clarke even has the chance to say hello.

“Sorry, O. Busy with the chat. What’s up?”  


_PSL: I don’t think that anything you are feeling or saying right now makes you seem stupid or foolish_

_PSL: I just want you to know that_  


_“You remember the guy Bellamy thought was super creepy and messaged to stay away from me?”_

“The one you got really mad at him for talking to? Yes, I remember.”  


_Visitor: thank you  
_  

_“Right. Well… turns out Bell wasn’t that far off the mark when he said this guy was creepy.”_

Clarke straightens up a bit in her seat, her attention going away from the chat and now focusing on the sound of Octavia’s voice.

“What do you mean?”

_“Turns out he followed me home from campus when I left the library earlier…”_

_“_ He _WHAT?”_

_“He’s standing right outside. I can see him from my window, Clarke. I can see him!”_

“Is anyone else home?”

_“Nope. Kayla and Anna still aren’t back from the weekend. Must not have class. Or they ditched. Whatever. I’m… I'm kinda freaked out a little, Clarke.”_

“Oh, God.”

_“Are you coming home sometime soon by any chance?”_

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” 

_“Thank you.”_

“I just need to send a text and then I’ll call you right back, okay? And we’ll stay on the phone until I get home.”

_“’kay, sounds good.”_

“Make sure the doors are locked.”

_“Trust me, they are.”_

“Good. Talk soon.”

Clarke hangs up and fires off a quick text to Raven. She does not bother to open Octavia’s texts.

 **8.21PM**  
**Princess Griffin**  
911 situation with O… I need to bail  
on the shift. Can you pls come back in??

 Clarke looks back to the computer in front of her. She has missed a couple of messages while she was on the phone.

_  
Visitor: it still feels weird talking about her_

_Visitor: probably because i have not done it in so long_

 

 **8.23PM**  
**Ray-Ray Reyes**  
On my way back now

 **8.23PM**  
**Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Everything okay??

 **8.23PM**  
**Princess Griffin**  
Will explain later

A knot grows in Clarke’s stomach. She has to leave her chatter hanging… again. She can only hope that she will understand and not take it personally. The urgency of the situation back at the house does not leave Clarke with much choice, or much time to feel too guilty. She briefly considers letting Raven take over the chat and pretend to be her (because really, how will the chatter know, and what’s most important is that she gets the support she needs, right?) but this idea feels entirely too dishonest and just _wrong_ in so many ways. Clarke has to suck it up. 

_PSL: hey, I’m incredibly sorry to do this (again), but I have to go. it’s not because of anything we’ve discussed, or anything like that. I just have something of an emergency at home with my housemate that can’t wait._

_Visitor: oh_

_Visitor is typing..._

_Visitor: okay_

_Visitor is typing..._

_Visitor: i understand_

_PSL: there is another volunteer here who you can chat with if you'd like_  


A pause. Clarke cannot really afford to wait. She turns to the other volunteer in the hub, who is looking at her in mild concern.

“Hey, my housemate is kind of having an emergency. I need to head out in a second. Raven should be back soon, though. Are you okay here on your own until she gets here?”  


_Visitor: will you be back later tonight?_  


“Oh, no worries! I’ll hold down the fort.”  
 

_PSL: probably not_

_Visitor: right_  


“Thanks!”

“Good luck with your housemate stuff.”

Clarke is already calling Octavia back.  


_PSL: I really am sorry_

_Visitor: i believe you  
_

_Visitor is typing…_

Clarke’s knee bounces up and down in impatience. _Why is she not picking up?_

_“Hey!”_

“Woman, when there is a potential stalker in front of the house, you damn well better answer on the first ring!”

_“Sorry, sorry!”_

_  
Visitor: i know that you are not able to give me any of your information, and that is fine... but i can give you mine, right? this is probably breaking more of your rules, but my number is 647-247-2893. you probably won’t text me or anything, which is also fine, but i figure it couldn't hurt to... try._

  
Clarke is stunned into silence for a moment. 

_  
“Clarke? Are you there? Look, I’m sorry – don’t be mad at me! Are you coming home now?”_

“Oh, right. Yeah, I'm still here. Not mad. Leaving now, O.”  


_Visitor: you are the first person I have been able to talk to about Costia in what feels like a very long time_  


Not wanting to hang up the phone on Octavia, Clarke hurriedly scribbles down the number on one of the post-it notes left on the desk. Underneath the number, Clarke jots down the name  _Costia_  in her rushed and messy writing.She underlines it twice.  
 

_Visitor: I hope things are okay with your housemate_

_Visitor: bye_  


_Chat has ended. Visitor has left the conversation._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this. I'm afraid the next chapter won't be up nearly as quickly as this one was (my first exam is this Saturday so... gotta study). But please leave more comments/inbox me on tumblr. I love knowing what people think of my writing, which parts in particular make people laugh/cry/feel dead inside. Plus, the comments inspire me to put off my education and write faster :)
> 
> Also, I'm looking for a beta/someone to bounce ideas off of/someone to tell me if my ideas are stupid/someone to chat with basically. Requirements are that you must actually like this fic, and have a lot of patience to deal with my dorky randomness and excitement. If you're interested, let me know.


	3. I've Said Too Much (I Haven't Said Enough)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song 'Losing My Religion' by REM. I recommend listening to it, but that's just me.
> 
> Lots of slowburn ahead, and some fun with our favourite delinquents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of the wonderful people who wished me luck in exams and offered to help beta/bounce off ideas! Special mention to biwarrior and thepristinelyungifted on Tumblr, without whom this chapter would not be what it is. And it probably would have taken a lot longer to finish!

Clarke is usually not one to run. She is a firm believer that one should run only if one is being chased, or in some other life-or-death kind of situation. However, in this moment, she runs home as fast as she can manage while also staying on the phone with Octavia. As she runs, she wishes that she and Octavia had not given up on going to the gym last semester, because she can barely breathe right now. The heavy bag on her back does not help. Nevertheless, she does not let herself slow down until she turns onto their street and can see their house.

As she once again gains control of her breathing, she spots him lurking around by the side of the house, not too far from Octavia’s window. He is not even _trying_ to be discreet about it.

“I can see the creep,” Clarke says quietly into the phone, slowing her pace even more. “What did you say his name was again?”

“John. But he said people call him Murphy. That’s his last name.”

“Right.”

“What are you going to do?”

“What do you _think_ I’m going to do?”

“Right, of course. Okay, well, I’ll be watching from the window in case I need to call the cops... or an ambulance.”

“Hey, don’t worry. I’ve got this. I am _fierce_... Grr.”

“Obviously. The ambulance would be for him.” Octavia chuckles lightly, but Clarke can tell that she is worried from the way that her voice goes up an octave. “Be careful.”

“Always am.” Clarke promptly hangs up the phone and walks straight up to the creep in question. She does not attempt to sneak up on him in any way.

“YOU!” she calls out as she approaches him from behind, causing him to jump in surprise and turn to face her. “Why the hell are you hanging around outside my house?”

He looks like a deer caught in the headlights, not quite knowing what to say.

“Oh… Um… I… Uh...”

“Use your words, Murphy,” Clarke says patronisingly, not bothering to hide her annoyance. She takes a step closer to the guy, and he automatically takes a step back. Clarke feels a certain amount of satisfaction at this.

“Oh, you know my - Okay. Well, I’m just… you know… chilling.”

Clarke has always wondered what it might feel like to punch someone in the face. She is not entirely opposed to the idea of finding out tonight. She takes another step closer.

 _“Dude, what do I do? This isn’t funny!”_ the guys says. He doesn’t seem to be talking to Clarke. Instead, he appears to be addressing the bushes on the far side of the back yard. Clarke stares at him in confusion, trying to figure out whether he is high out of his mind, or just plain deranged. She takes another step forward, and it probably comes off as even more threatening than she had intended.

“Look, buddy, I don’t know what your problem is, but you can’t just -”

Clarke is abruptly cut off by a figure emerging from the bushes and running up to join them. She is alarmed for a moment before she realises that she recognises the tall, lanky person approaching them.

“Whoa, Clarke, easy there!”

_“Jasper?”_

“Yeah, hey.” Jasper slides his way between Clarke and Murphy. “Um, you can put down the fists, holy shit.”

“What are you doing here? Do you know this creep?”

“I’m actually not a creep,” Murphy interjects, sticking his head out from behind Jasper. Clarke silences him with a glare and he throws his hands up in submission. “ _Okaay then_ … Jasper, why don’t _you_ do the talking.”

“He’s not a creep,” Jasper says, trying to reassure her. As he says this, Octavia walks out of the front door to join them.

“Jasper?” she asks.

“Hey, Octavia!” Jasper grins.

“Don’t you try to _‘hey Octavia’_ your way out of this, Jasper Jordan. Explain.”

“Jeez, okay. Octavia, Clarke… this is Murphy. He’s my friend.”

“Not after this, you shithead,” Murphy mutters. If Clarke were in a better mood, she probably would have laughed.

“Not helping, Murph,” Jasper says, turning around slightly to throw his friend a frustrated look. Murphy shrugs. “Anyway… Murphy here told me about your brother’s message and I… well, I thought we could have a little fun with it.”

“I told you it was stupid,” Murphy grumbles.

“Murph, seriously, whose side are you on?”

“I’m on whichever side doesn’t get me beaten up by your blonde friend here.”

Clarke cannot help the slight smirk that lifts up the corner of her mouth at this.

“So this was a prank?” Octavia asks uncertainly.

“Um… yes?” Jasper tries to play it off with an innocent smile.

“Oh, man, you scared the shit out of me, Jas!” Octavia says with a laugh, clearly relieved. “That was good.” Jasper laughs along, glad that she finds it funny. Clarke is less amused.

“ _Seriously?_ ” Clarke smacks Jasper on the shoulder. “I was in the middle of something important, you _jerk_. I ran all the way from campus because I was so worried. _You know I hate running_.” Hints of Clarke’s long-lost Australian accent can be heard in her voice when she gets annoyed, and she is most definitely annoyed right now. Octavia knows this, and she picks up on it, so she moves closer to Clarke, putting a hand on her shoulder in an effort to get her to chill out a bit.

“Aw, sorry, Clarke,” Jasper laughs. “I couldn’t resist. At least you got some exercise out of it.” He gives her his most cheesy grin. Clarke just rolls her eyes and turns to head inside the house. She does not see the sheepish-yet-amused look that Octavia and Jasper share behind her back, nor the way that Murphy breathes out a sigh of relief. By the time Clarke has deposited her bag in her room, the three of them have followed her into the house.

“Really, O? You invited them in?”

“Aw, don’t be that way, Clarke!” Jasper says, using the most pleading tone he can manage.

Clarke sighs. It really isn’t worth it. Once the annoyance wears off, she knows that she will probably find this amusing as well.

“Clarke’s just mad that she didn’t get to punch anyone in the face,” Octavia says with a shrug, coming over to wrap her arms jokingly around Clarke. “Don’t worry, babe. Even though this wasn’t a real threat, you’re still my knight in shining armour.”

Murphy throws Jasper a questioning look, and Jasper gives him a knowing smirk in response. “I told you they were together.”

Octavia lets out a little chuckle at this, letting go of Clarke to grab herself a glass of water. Clarke refuses to let Jasper off the hook by laughing at his comment. This is not the first time that people have joked about Octavia and Clarke being in a relationship. Hell, the day they met Raven, she had asked them to stop being such a grossly cute couple in front of her because it was making her nauseous. This probably won’t be the last time, either. Nobody bothers to let Murphy in on the joke, so he goes on looking somewhat confused.

It is not long before Jasper texts his best friend and housemate, Monty, to come join the little party. With the four of them reunited, it is almost like they are back in first year again, living on-campus on the same floor of their residence, spending more time in each other’s rooms than their own. The only one missing is Raven, but she’s still at the PSL shift. The five of them had wanted to find a place together for second year, but then Raven’s family lived in town (and it had been a struggle for her to convince them to let her live in residence in first year as it was), and the boys had wanted to live with some of their other friends as well. Octavia did not particularly like the idea of boys outnumbering girls, and she did not want to live with too many people anyway, and so they had to split up the gang.

Clarke is not exactly sure how it happened, but after about an hour or so of playing Texas Hold'em around the dining table, Jasper has managed to wear her down, and she is no longer able to stay mad at him. They don’t play for real money, of course; they are all students with zero spare change to waste. Instead, they play with monopoly bills. The different winning hands have to be re-explained to Octavia quite a few times before Monty gets fed up and decides to go and write them out… on the wall.

“Dude, you did not just write on their wall,” Murphy says.

“You know, we have paper in the house, Monty,” Clarke laughs.

“Whatever. It’s just drywall so it doesn’t even count, really.”

“This is brilliant,” grins Octavia. “It’s staying up there until we move out after fourth year.”

Clarke agrees without hesitation, reaching past Murphy to high-five Monty. She can’t help but notice the way Murphy slightly flinches. Throughout the night, Murphy has become more comfortable with the group, but he still keeps his distance from Clarke. Clarke chooses to blame Jasper for this, and not herself. Still, a few times, Clarke finds herself intentionally making sudden movements that freak Murphy out. So maybe she hasn’t _entirely_ forgiven them just yet. But she isn’t mad.

It is around one in the morning when the three boys finally leave, and they would have gladly hung around for longer if Clarke had not literally shoved them out of the door. As it shuts behind them, Clarke hears Murphy ask, _“So are they dating or what?”_ and she has to suppress a laugh.

Clarke exhaustedly makes her way back to the living/dining room and flops down beside Octavia on to their giant bean bag chair.

“You know, this bean bag chair is the single greatest purchase I have ever made,” Clarke says, relaxing in to it. Though they’ve only had it for a year, it has served them well. The pair often decide to have their movie nights on the bean bag instead of in one of their rooms, because the damn thing is just so comfy. Clarke thinks she might fall asleep right there. Octavia feels the same way. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What about the record player?” Octavia asks tiredly. “And that ABBA record?”

“Oh, good point,” Clarke concedes. “Fine, they’re tied.”

They don’t end up sleeping on the bean bag that night. Clarke needs the comfort of her blanket and pillows, and she needs to brush her teeth, so she drags herself up off the bean bag. It takes a great deal of mental strength.

The next morning, Clarke wakes up to the sound of La Vie en Rose. She groans and tiredly reaches for her phone to hit the snooze, noting that she has a text from Raven before rolling back into bed. She purposely sets her alarms for at least a solid 15 minutes before she actually has to be out of bed, so that she has extra time in the morning just to sort of lie there. She is not sure why, but these extra 15 minutes are crucial.

As she lies in bed, she cannot shake the feeling that there is something she was supposed to do. Something she meant to do last night, but she had forgotten.

_Something to do with my phone…?_

She shrugs and reaches for the phone in question to read Raven’s text.

 **2.15AM**  
**Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Everything okay with O?

  
The familiar first bars of La Vie en Rose start to play again. Clarke does not turn off the song immediately, instead choosing to listen to the music for a little while. She waits until after the first chorus and then replies to Raven.

 **9.26AM**  
**Princess Griffin**  
False alarm.

 **9.26AM**  
**Princess Griffin**  
Long story.

 **9.26AM**  
**Princess Griffin**  
Jasper’s a jerk.

It isn’t until later, when she is already a quarter of the way to school, that Clarke remembers.

_  
She gave me her number.  
  
_

Clarke stops in her tracks. Because of all the distraction with the guys last night, she had forgotten to text her chatter.

_Shit.  
  
_

The post it note with the number is sitting on her desk. She is already at the end of her street. She contemplates her choice. When she has been in similar situations in the past, often forgetting a book or an umbrella, Clarke’s mentality is usually _‘too late now; there’s no going back.’_ Even if she has only just stepped off of the front porch. Octavia always laughs at her ridiculousness.

With a sigh, Clarke quickly jogs back to the house, taking her keys out of her bag in the process. She unlocks the front door and then her bedroom door, grabs the post it note from the table, and shoves it in her jacket pocket without looking at it. She is running slightly late by her own standards, but she knows that if she walks a little faster than her normal slow pace, she should be fine.

Once she is safely seated in her Forensic Anthropology lecture room, a seat saved beside her for Octavia, she pulls out the note. Her eyes linger on the name scrawled beneath the number.

_Costia._

She pulls out her phone to save the number. She wonders what she should call this new contact. With a smile, she thinks of the name that Octavia likes to use.

_Mystery Chatter.  
  
_

She looks back at the number on the somewhat scrunched up post it note.

 _It’s a good thing I want to be a doctor,_ Clarke thinks to herself, _because I sure do have the handwriting for it. Jeez. Is this a one or a seven? Shit. You had one job, Clarke.  
  
_

She decides that it is most probably a 7, and hopes for the best. Worst case scenario, she got it wrong and she’ll have to try this again with a one.

 **10.26AM**  
**Unknown Number**  
Hello

  
She doesn’t expect a reply right away, because for all she knows, this chatter likes to sleep in until noon (and Clarke wouldn’t blame her if she did). She pulls out her laptop in preparation for the class. A notification pops up on her screen from iMessage in under two minutes.

 _God bless Apple,_ Clarke thinks, grateful that she can send messages without having to have her phone out.

 **10.28AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Who is this and how did you get my number?

Clarke blinks. That seems like a surprising amount of hostility. It might have been a 1 after all, not a 7. Still, Clarke wants to be sure. She is about to give her name, but hesitates. She doesn’t want to give it if this is the wrong number. And it’s not like the chatter knows her name, anyway.

 **10.28AM**  
**Unknown Number**  
Sorry, I’m a volunteer on Ark University’s  
Peer Support Line.

 **10.29AM**  
**Unknown Number**  
Are you the person who left me their number  
just before our last conversation ended?

 **10.29AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Oh

Clarke looks up as a bag drops into the seat beside her, and Octavia looks about as happy as she always does this early in the morning.

“How was your 9.30 class?” Clarke asks, just as another message notification pops up on her screen.

 **10.29AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Yes, that would be me

“Fascinating as always,” Octavia replies sarcastically. “The prof just _would not shut up_ today. I honestly don’t know why I even bother to go. I was on tumblr half the time.”

Clarke frowns at her disapprovingly, but then she can hardly talk. She is often just as bad, if not worse, when it comes to anatomy. “Just one more day of class, O. You can do it.”

“Yeah… but then it’s _exams_ and that’s even _worse_.”

Clarke laughs at Octavia’s complaints as she looks back down at her phone again. They often have little whine sessions like this.

 **10.32AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I am sorry for being rude

 **10.32AM**  
**PSL Person**  
That’s okay, it wasn’t rude.

“Looks like the prof is late again,” Octavia notes. “You’d think she’d pull her shit together for the last lecture of the year, but oh well.”

As she says this, the prof enters the room.  
 

 **10.32AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Yes it was

   
Since it is the last class, the professor says that she will be doing an exam review, and Clarke is glad that she got her ass out of bed and came to class. Reviews are a Godsend, because they make studying so much easier. Especially with this prof, because she basically goes into everything that’s important.

 **10.34AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Well, maybe a bit…

 **10.34AM**  
**PSL Person**  
But I should’ve mentioned who I was  
in my first text, so that’s on me.

Clarke pays attention to the lecture and takes notes as the professor talks about things they discussed way back in January. It feels like it was several years ago. The prof is talking about biological profiles when another message pops up on Clarke’s screen.

 **10.42AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I was not expecting to hear from you

 **10.42AM**  
**PSL Person**  
What can I say… I tend to do  
the unexpected.

 **10.43AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I see

 **10.43AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I will try to keep that in mind

Clarke is not sure quite what to say from here, and she really should be paying attention in class, but she does not want the chatter to think that she isn’t interested in talking to her. Just as she is about to type something out, to tell her that she is in class, the three dots appear, indicating that the chatter is typing. So Clarke waits, tries to listen to the prof, takes notes.

 **10.46AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
How is everything with your housemate?

Clarke is surprised by the question. She glances over at Octavia and sees that she is busy listening and taking detailed notes. Good. The girl may lose focus in her political science courses, but she enjoys anthropology a lot more, and she is able to focus when she needs to. This class is probably the only time when the two of them are sitting right next to each other and actually not saying anything.

 **10.47AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Oh, she’s okay

 **10.47AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Last night was actually kind of  
a false alarm

 **10.47AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Thanks for asking

 **10.48AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I am glad everything is okay

Clarke hesitates, her hand hovering over the keyboard for a moment in indecision.

 **10.50AM**  
**PSL Person**  
I’m sorry I had to end our chat  
so abruptly

 **10.50AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Again.

 **10.50AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
It is not a problem

 **10.51AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
An emergency is an emergency, even  
if it ends up being a false alarm

 _“Clarke, you’re not even trying to pay attention,”_ Octavia whispers to her, drawing her out of her conversation.

Clarke grins over at her friend and just shrugs.

“You’re paying enough attention for the both of us.”

Octavia rolls her eyes, but Clarke knows that she’ll share the notes she’s making when it comes time to study.

 **10.52AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Yeah, you have a point

  
Clarke attempts to pay attention again, but at this point it’s halfway through the lecture and there really is no point. So she goes on tumblr instead. She hears Octavia sigh in exasperation and pretends not to notice.

 **10.56AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Well I have to get ready for class now

The three dots appear and they linger for a while. Clarke waits for the next message curiously. It takes over a minute.

  
**10.58AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Bye

Surely it should not take over a minute to type out something like ‘bye.’ She wonders what her chatter had been unable to say.

 **10.58AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Talk to you later!

She does not get any more messages from the mystery chatter for the rest of the class.

Clarke and Octavia part ways once their shared anthropology class is over. Clarke heads to the Anatomy lab to look at some specimens, knowing that she is currently woefully unprepared for the exam that waits for her in just a few days. She tries to push the thought from her mind.

She bumps into Jasper at the lab, and a quick chat with him informs her that he feels just as unprepared for this exam as she does. This is somewhat comforting at first, but soon Jasper is getting hysterical.

“Honestly, I feel like I don’t even know enough of the theory to look at these specimens. I don’t think this is helping. _I’m going to fail, Clarke.”_

“No, Jas. We’ve got this. What do I always say? _Confidence is key!_ I was thinking of going to the library to go over some of the lectures - you should come, too.”

Jasper nods. “Yeah. Library… Right.”

“Octavia will probably come as well… and I think I’ll text Raven to see if she’s free. We can all study together, just like last year.”

Jasper grins. “Okay, that actually sounds good. I’ve missed O and Raven. And last night was fun… despite the fact that you terrified poor Murphy.”

“He’s not _poor Murphy_ ,” Clarke says with a laugh. “And it’s your fault, not mine. I thought he was stalking Octavia. You guys are lucky we didn’t call the cops.”

“Point taken. Anyway, I’ll tell Monty to come to the library, too. He has his first exam on Friday.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

 

It’s 2.30 when Jasper and Clarke finally leave the lab together. They pick up a quick to-go meal at the student centre to get them through the rest of the day, and then they make their way over to Mecha Library, Clarke’s library of choice on campus. During exams and midterms, it is Clarke and Octavia’s second home.

Raven arrives at around 5, and she finds the pair talking animatedly about something that is clearly not related to any exam.

“Good to see you two are working hard,” Raven says with a straight face.

Clarke turns at the sound of Raven’s voice. She has two straws tucked into her mouth. “Ray, look, _I’m a walrus!_ ”

“What you are is an idiot,” Raven says, taking the seat opposite from Clarke. “I don’t know why I let myself be seen in public with you.”

Clarke pulls the straws from her mouth and, without missing a beat, she replies with, “Because I’m sexy and I know it.”

Jasper cracks up. Raven feels like she is missing out on some kind of inside joke, but she really doesn’t want to know. It’s just not worth it.

“You’re losing it, Princess,” Raven says, trying to keep the amusement out of her voice.

“You would lose it too if you’d just spent the last five hours trying to memorise shit like _transsphenoidal hypophysectomy_ ,” Clarke says in her own defence.

Not one to back down from a challenge, Raven rolls up her sleeves and replies with, “Oh, yeah? Well, I’ve just come from a lecture on kinematics, or more specifically, the analysis of planar mechanisms. Before that it was statical indeterminacy, and before that it was a lecture on thermodynamics.”

When she is met with silence, a satisfied smirk spreads across Raven’s face. “What, no more clever comments from the peanut gallery?”

“Okay, okay. Mechanical engineering is hard, too. We get it,” Jasper grumbles sourly.

“Damn right it is.”

“You’re no fun,” mutters Clarke.

“See, this is exactly why you weren’t invited to poker night last night.”

“What now?” Raven says, raising an eyebrow. “You guys played poker without me?”

“Oh, right! I forgot to tell you about last night!”

“Yeah, you texted me this morning about it but I forgot to reply,” Raven says. “What happened? Why is Jasper a jerk?”

“Hey, I’m not a jerk.”

“Clarke begs to differ.”

Clarke explains what happened to Raven (with regular interjections from Jasper), and Raven is already laughing before Clarke is even halfway through the story.

“Aw, man, I would’ve killed to have seen your face when it happened, C. This poor Murphy kid is probably traumatised for life.”

“Well, it’s Jasper’s fault if he is,” Clarke huffs.

When Octavia shows up at the library, she sees the three of them laughing.

“Well, you’re all laughing so I _know_ you can’t be studying right now,” she says. She gives Raven a tight hug and sits down beside her.

“These two were just telling me about how you had a poker night without me. I’m insulted,” Raven informs Octavia. “And hurt. So very hurt. I can barely hold in the tears.”

“Oh, shut it,” Octavia says, rolling her eyes.

“You guys just knew I would’ve kicked all of your butts if I was there.”

“Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, hun,” Clarke says sarcastically.

“Don’t even pretend to deny it. You losers have nothing on me.”

It’s true that Raven is often the winner when they play poker together, but they aren’t going to let her have that satisfaction.

By the time Monty arrives, the rest of them are actually studying. Of course, this does not last.

“I need to take a walk,” Octavia says. “I can’t be indoors for this long. It’s not good for my health. Clarke, wanna come with?”

“Nah, I need to at least pretend like I'm studying here.”

“Suit yourself," Octavia replies with a light shrug. "Ray?”

“What? You think I want to be your second choice? _Please._ ”

“Aw, baby… don’t be that way. You know you’re my number one.”

“Oh, she _is_?” Clarke asks. “And here I thought we had something special going. Okay. I see how it is.”

“Geez… one needy woman at a time, please,” says Octavia.

Monty and Jasper share a look.

“I feel like we’re intruding on some kind of three-way lovers’ spat,” Jasper stage-whispers to Monty.

“Girls are so weird, man.”

This, of course, makes everyone else laugh.

Octavia and Clarke decide to call it a night at around 10 pm. The others are still sticking around to continue studying. Clarke is impressed, particularly with Jasper. She expects this kind of thing from Raven and Monty, but Jasper has historically been less than motivated when it comes to studying.

When they get home, they decide on a quick dinner of chicken nuggets. As they wait for the oven to heat up, the two of them just sit side-by-side on the kitchen floor, as is their way.

“I’m not in the mood for 9.30 Global Politics tomorrow, ugh!” Octavia groans, resting her head on Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke reaches up to pat her head a few times.

“It’s the last day of class tomorrow. You can do this. I believe in you.”

“Ugh.”

“Come on, I’ll go with you for moral support,” Clarke offers.

Octavia sighs. “Okay, fine. If it means that much to you, I’ll go.”

“Good girl.”

“Thanks,  _mom_.”

Clarke just smiles and gets up to put the chicken fingers in the oven.

“I’m going to take you up on that offer, by the way.”

“I know. It’s not like this is the first time,” Clarke says with a light laugh.

They both go to their rooms ready for bed not long after dinner, drained from a long day of studying. In her exhaustion, Clarke forgets to turn her phone on silent, and that is why she wakes up in the middle of the night hearing the very loud and obnoxious beeping from her phone. The screen comes to life, and her room is briefly illuminated by the intense light.

 _What is it now, O?_ Clarke wonders.

Octavia’s random, late-night messages are the reason that Clarke turns her phone on silent at night in the first place. Even when they shared a room, she would sometimes text Clarke in the middle of the night. In the light of day, these texts are a lot more entertaining, because they are always the randomest thing ever. They are usually something along these lines:

_Do penguins have knees, Clarke?_

_I just googled it. They do._

Or, Clarke’s personal favourite:

_You know what?_

_If we shared a wall, we would have a secret knock._

_Let’s switch rooms so we can share a wall and have a secret knock._

This time around, Clarke debates just ignoring the text and checking it in the morning, because she is tired and she needs to be up early to go with Octavia to her stupid class. But some part of her - the part that cannot help but worry and assume the worst case scenario - refuses to let her fall back to sleep. She reaches for her phone with a sigh.

_Someone better be dead.  
  
_

Clarke screws up her eyes against the blinding light of her phone screen, turning the brightness as low as it will go without actually being off. She hopes she does not drop her phone on her face, because she is so _not_ in the mood for that right now.

Clarke becomes a little more alert when she sees that it is not from Octavia after all. She looks at the time and is mildly concerned. Then again, lots of people have really messed up sleep schedules. Especially this close to exams. Right?

 **3.42AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I just wanted to say thank you for   
actually texting me. I honestly did not  
expect you to do that.

Clarke is baffled by this. This is not a message that really needs to be sent at _3.42 in the freaking morning_. There must be more to this. Clarke’s brain is still somewhat fuzzy from sleep, but she manages to send a reply with zero typos.

 **3.45AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Like I said, no need to thank me!

 **3.45AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Oh, I thought you would be asleep

 **3.47AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I hope I did not disturb you

 **3.47AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Don’t worry, it’s all good

  
Clarke hesitates for a second before typing out another text as well.

 **3.48AM**  
**PSL Person**  
How come you’re up so late?

 **3.48AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I could ask you the same thing

 **3.49AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Well, I was asleep not too long ago

 **3.49AM**  
**PSL Person**  
And then my phone went off because  
of a really loud text so now I’m up :P

As soon as she hits the send button, Clarke regrets the message. It’s something she has jokingly sent to Octavia multiple times, but it sounds like she’s annoyed with her chatter, when that’s the farthest thing from the truth. Sure enough, the chatter interprets it this way.

 **3.50AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
So I did disturb you

 **3.50AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I apologise

 **3.50AM**  
 **PSL Person**  
Hey, no

 **3.50AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I assumed your phone would be  
off or at least on silent

 **3.50AM**  
 **PSL Person**  
You don’t have to apologise

 **3.50AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I should not have texted you at  
this hour

 **3.50AM**  
 **PSL Person**  
Stop

 **3.51AM**  
 **Mystery Chatter**  
I should not have texted at all, for   
that matter

 **3.51AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I am sorry

 **3.51AM**  
 **PSL Person**  
Will you please hold on?

 **3.51AM**  
 **PSL Person**  
I didn’t mean it like that

 **3.51AM**  
 **PSL Person**  
I was just kidding and it was stupid

 **3.51AM**  
 **PSL Person**  
Please don’t apologise for messaging  
me

 **3.52AM**  
 **PSL Person**  
I’m actually really glad that you did

Several minutes pass, and Clarke wants to kick herself. She’s certain that she just drove her chatter away because of a stupid joke made when she was half asleep.

Then the three dots appear, and Clarke is not quite sure if this makes her more anxious or less.

 **3.59AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Really?

 **3.59AM**  
 **PSL Person**  
Yes.

4.00AM  
Mystery Chatter  
Why?

Clarke sits up a bit in bed. This is a very good question, and Clarke does not really have a good answer. So she goes with the simple truth.

 **4.01AM**  
 **PSL Person**  
Because I don’t want you to  
feel alone

The silence after this message makes Clarke regret her words. She can’t help but feel like she’s messed up somehow, but she’s not quite sure why. Clarke almost ends up falling back asleep, but then her phone buzzes with another text.

 **4.09AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Okay.

 **4.09AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I appreciate that

Clarke is a little confused after this. As usual, she does not know how to move the conversation forward.

 **4.12AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I am still sorry for waking you up

 **4.12AM**  
**PSL Person**  
It’s okay, honestly

 **4.13AM**  
**PSL Person**  
So how come you’re up?

Clarke waits, and even though she is tired, sleep is the farthest thing from her mind.

 **4.13AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I generally find it difficult to go  
to sleep at a normal hour

 **4.13AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Ahh

 **4.14AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Is something keeping you up?

Clarke stares at the three dots, which appear almost immediately. It takes a while. The dots disappear for an instant, and then they’re back. Clarke imagines the chatter struggling over what to say, or hovering over the enter button, debating whether or not to send whatever it is she has typed out. Clarke begins to think that these three little dots might be even more stress-inducing than the ‘Visitor is typing…” message from the PSL chat.

 **4.16AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I have troubling dreams sometimes.

 **4.16AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Like nightmares?

 **4.17AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Yes, like nightmares.

 **4.17AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Do you mind if I ask what they  
are about?

 **4.17AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
They are always about the same thing

 **4.17AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Different versions of the same  
nightmare, really

 **4.17AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I am still haunted by her memories

_Costia._

The name comes to Clarke’s mind instantly. Of course, she had a pretty good idea that this is what keeps her chatter awake at night, but Clarke wanted to see what she would say. Clarke finds that she is pleased her chatter isn’t trying to keep the truth from her. It might just be her imagination, but it feels like there seems to be less hesitation.

 **4.18AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Would you like to talk about it?

Clarke waits. It takes a moment before the three dots appear again.

 **4.23AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I should probably attempt to sleep

 **4.23AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I have class at 9.30, and I am sure you  
must have things to do in the morning

Clarke frowns at this slightly. It is a clear deflection of the question, but her chatter is not wrong… neither of them should be awake at 4.23 when they both need to be up early.

 **4.23AM**  
**PSL Person**  
You have a point. Sleep is very  
important!

The three dots appear. Clarke waits.

 **4.25AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Perhaps I will tell you about the  
dreams later, at a more appropriate  
time of day

 **4.25AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
if you still wish to hear about it, that is

Clarke sees this message for what it truly is. She understands what her chatter is trying to say (albeit indirectly).

_I want to talk to you about this, but I am not ready. Not yet._

Maybe she is reading too much into this. Maybe not. Either way, Clarke understands, and she does not push it.

 **4.25AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Sounds like a plan

 **4.26AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Try to get some sleep before  
your class!

 **4.26AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I will try my best

 **4.26AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Goodnight

 **4.26AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Or good morning, technically

Clarke grins to herself at this.

 **4.26AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Good morning

Clarke settles back into her bed and is asleep almost instantly, too tired to properly think about the conversation. After what feels like no more than ten minutes at most, Clarke’s alarm goes off and she grumbles something unintelligible, seriously contemplating throwing her phone across the room. She decides that that’s probably not the best idea.

Finally summoning the willpower to get out of bed, Clarke heads over to Octavia’s room and knocks on her door.

 _“Ugh, go away,”_ comes Octavia’s voice from inside.

“Get up, you lazy shit.”

“No.”

“We had a deal. I woke up for this stupid class of yours.”

“Ugh.”

“O, do I have to come in there and drag you out of your bed? Because I will. _You know I will._ ”

This goes on for a while, and only ends when Clarke marches into Octavia’s room and rips off her blankets.

“I hate you,” Octavia grumbles, scowling at Clarke viciously.

“We both know that’s not true.”

Octavia is a lot less prickly by the time they actually get to the lecture room. The pair sit in the very back row, even though the room is 75% empty. Clearly, most people opted to skip this class.

Within two minutes, Clarke is bored out of her brain. She does not care to listen to the dreary professor summarising the unit on Marx. She already knows most of this from when she helped Octavia write her essays. Clarke slumps back in her seat, wondering whether she might actually be able to sleep here. She’s certainly tired enough to try it. She closes her eyes and her mind wanders back to the texts she received from her mystery chatter. She hopes that the poor girl got at least some sleep before her class this morning.

Clarke looks at Octavia, who spends half the time taking notes, and the other half on Facebook or Tumblr. Clarke nudges her every times she sees that Octavia is distracted, but in all honesty, she can’t really blame her. The professor’s voice could put even Raven to sleep - and that girl is _never_ tired.

Clarke lets her eyes roam around the room, and she notices a girl sitting several seats away from them on the same row. She’s wearing a half-sleeved top, and Clarke is fascinated by a very unique-looking tattoo that is half-visible on the girl’s upper arm. It seems almost tribal, and it is incredibly intricate. Clarke sits up straighter and pulls a random notebook out of her bag, along with a pencil and an eraser. She turns her body towards the girl just slightly, and trying to be as discreet as possible, she begins to draw out the tattoo. From this distance, it’s almost impossible to make out the details well enough for a proper drawing. And she has no idea what the top half even looks like. Still, she tries.

 _“Clarke, you have got to stop drawing people without asking them first,”_ Octavia hisses at her under her breath, making Clarke jump and drop the eraser. It rolls in the direction of the girl.

“I’m not drawing _her_ , I’m drawing her _tattoo,_ ” Clarke clarifies.

“Same shit. You’re still a creeper.”

“Shut up.”

Clarke debates just leaving the eraser where it is, because she’s honestly feeling too lazy to get up. But going to pick it up would give her a chance to take a closer look at the tattoo, so she decides to make the effort.

She gets up from her folding seat as quietly as possible and walks over a few steps to pick it up. The girl never so much as glances in Clarke’s direction, but as she reaches down for the eraser, Clarke looks at the girl’s face for the first time. _She’s pretty,_ Clarke notes, _but she seems exhausted._ She is wearing glasses, but Clarke can clearly see that the girl has dark circles around her eyes.

_Yet another victim of exam season stress._

Clarke feels bad for her. It’s not until she’s back in her seat that Clarke realises she never even looked at the tattoo up close. Clarke sighs. The sketch takes about 10 minutes to finish off. When she is done, she looks up at the clock expectantly, because _surely_ the class must almost be over by now. It’s not.

“How can there still be another 15 minutes? Does this class go on forever or something?” Clarke complains to Octavia under her breath.

“Yes. It goes on forever into the depths of eternity. I told you we shouldn’t have come.”

“Maybe you were right.”

“I’m always right, C. There is no ‘maybe’ here.”

Clarke just rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone for a distraction. She decides to send a text.

 **10.07AM**  
**PSL Person**  
I hope you made it to your 9.30 class

She does not expect a reply right away, because she already knows that her chatter does not like to text in class. She is not wrong.

Once the world’s most monotonous class is over, Clarke and Octavia decide to have breakfast in the student centre. Octavia is in the middle of telling Clarke about some show that Bellamy’s band is playing when Clarke receives a text.

 **10.47AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I did, thank you for your concern

 **10.47AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Good. Was it an interesting class?

 **10.47AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Not even a little bit

Clarke chuckles under her breath a little.

“Earth to Clarke!” says Octavia, waving her hand in front of Clarke’s face. “Were you listening?”

“Uh, yup. Sorry! Bellamy. Show. Got it.”

 **10.48AM**  
**PSL Person**  
I’m not surprised. They rarely  
ever are

Octavia rolls her eyes. “Yes, Bellamy has a show. It’s right after exams. Do you want to go?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ve never actually seen him perform.”

“Okay, great. They’re opening for some random band, but we don’t have to stick around for that if we don’t want to.”

Clarke is distracted by her phone again.

 **10.49AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
You are not wrong about that

“Maybe we should get Raven and the others to come, too,” Octavia suggests.

“That would be fun! Where’s the show?”

“Back home, which is perfect. They can all crash at your mom’s huge house.”

Clarke rolls her eyes but does not disagree.

 **10.53AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Did you manage to get some sleep?

 **10.53AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Some.

 **10.53AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Some is a good start

 **10.53AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Some is better than none

 **10.54AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Yes, I suppose it is

It does not seem like she wants to elaborate further, so Clarke does not ask. Clarke hopes that her chatter believes in the healing powers of regular naps, but somehow she does not think that this is the case.

“Woman, who are you texting?” Octavia exclaims.

“Oh! Sorry. Um… you remember that girl I was chatting with on the line?”

“Wait, hold the phone…”

“I _am_ holding the phone.” Clarke cannot resist. Octavia throws her an annoyed look.

“That was terrible, even for you. But forget about that... How the hell did you get her number? What happened to all of that anonymous crap? How long have you been texting her? And, most importantly, _why didn’t you tell me_?”

“Whoa, O, calm down with the Spanish Inquisition there!” Clarke says. “You actually need to give me time to answer your questions.”

Octavia shuts her mouth and just looks at Clarke expectantly.

“She gave me her number right when I told her I had to go on Monday night. This is back when I still thought your life was in danger from a deranged stalker.”

“Right, okay.”

“So I wrote it down… and then I texted her Tuesday morning. Yesterday.”

“Huh, okay.”

“What?” asks Clarke, picking up on something in Octavia’s tone.

“What?”

“What is it?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Octavia says innocently.

“You’re giving me a look, O.”

“I most certainly am _not_ giving you a look.”

_“Octavia.”_

“Fine!”

“What is it?” Clarke asks again.

“It’s just… Is this not breaking your sacred PSL oath or whatever?”

Clarke frowns. “There's no sacred oath, O.”

“You know what I mean! Aren’t you… _not_ supposed to contact people outside of the line?”

Clarke hesitates, and then she sighs.

“God, you’re right,” Clarke says in a defeated tone. “I so should not be doing this. But… I don’t know. I just… I didn’t want her to think I didn’t care enough to text her, you know?”

“I know.”

“It was probably, like, really hard for her to send her number. And it just… I don’t know, O. Should I not be texting her?”

“Well, how the heck am I supposed to know?” Octavia says, trying to be honest but also to lighten the mood. “Maybe talk to Raven? I mean, she’s on the line, too, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Okay. Thanks, O.”

 

A few hours later, they are back at the library. Jasper and Monty have joined them, and Raven will probably be coming a little later.

Clarke is trying to focus, but her brain is not cooperating. She has not had any more texts from her chatter since the morning. She decides to text her instead.

 **3.22PM**  
**PSL Person**  
How is studying going for you?

Clarke tries to go back to looking at the intrinsic muscles of the tongue.

 **3.27PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Not too bad. How is it for you?

 **3.27PM**  
**PSL Person**  
Well, my brain is dying…

 **3.27PM**  
**PSL Person**  
But aside from that, it’s great

 **3.28PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
That sounds like fun

“Clarke, put your phone down and focus,” Octavia scolds her. Clarke sighs.

“I’m taking a break, okay?”

Clarke turns back to the notes on her laptop. It is not long before she ends up on Facebook.

 **Facebook Chat**  
**3.57PM**

_Clarke: Guys, my brain is dying_

_Clarke: I hate anatomy_

_Clarke: Why did I not drop it when I still had the chance?_

_Jasper: Clarke, focus_

_Jasper: We aren’t at the library to mess around_

_Clarke: Do you think I can’t see that you were just playing Pacman right now?  
  
_

“Are you two seriously messaging each other on Facebook?” Monty asks incredulously, looking over Jasper’s shoulder.

“Maybe…” Jasper answers slowly.

“Wow… you’re sitting right beside each other,” Octavia says.

“It’s not like you and I have never done that before,” Clarke points out to Octavia.

“Fair point,” Octavia concedes. “But get back to studying.”

“You aren’t studying, either!

“Yes, but I don’t have an anatomy exam on Saturday. My first exam is next Wednesday.”

“Ugh, fine! I’ll study.”

She doesn’t.

 **Facebook Chat**  
**4.22PM**

_Roma: Haha guys are you studying together?_

_Clarke: Yesss we’re at Mecha_

_Jasper: Anatomy cramming_

_Jasper: Come join us… we can be miserable together!_

_Roma: Monroe and I didn’t take anatomy this term, remember?_

_Jasper: Oh, right_

_Clarke: You lucky shits_

_Monroe: Smartest decision I’ve ever made in my life._

_Clarke: I hate you  
  
_

Raven joins them not long after, and Clarke immediately wants to talk to her about her chatter, but she figures this is neither the time nor the place for that conversation.

“Did you guys miss me?” Raven asks as she takes a seat beside Monty.

“Oh, yes! I was counting down the minutes until I could see your face again.”

“Shut up, Jasper.”

“Well, you asked…”

After about half an hour of staring at the different parts of the intestine, Clarke thinks her brain might actually be dying after all. Jasper agrees.

“Can we just give up on the digestive system for now and move on to repro?” he asks.

“Sure.”

 **Facebook Chat**  
**5.29PM**

_Anya: I am offended that I was not invited to this anatomy study session_

_Anya: my feelings are hurt_

_Clarke: COME JOIN US!_

_Clarke: There are free seats!_

_Jasper: Comeeee, mother hen! You can help us!_

_Jasper: You actually know this shit, right?_

_Anya: hah. barely._

_Clarke: Still, come join us!_

_Anya: Who else are you studying with?_

_Jasper: Just a couple of our friends_

_Jasper: None of them are health sci so you probably don’t know them_

_Anya: hmm…_

_Anya: I don’t know… mecha is so far…_

_Clarke: Don’t be lazy, mama hen!_

_Jasper: Yeah, and our friends aren’t so bad_

_Jasper: I mean they’re idiots, but they’re essentially harmless  
  
_

“Oi, I am not an idiot,” Monty says, whacking Jasper on the shoulder.

“Stop reading off my screen. That’s so rude, Monty.”

Clarke laughs.

“Am I missing something here?” Octavia asks.

“Jasper just called us all idiots on his facebook chat.”

“Rude.”

“It’s true though.”

“Oh, yeah?” Raven challenges. “Who helped you get through first year chem, you ungrateful little shit?

“Fair. Okay. I will amend my statement.”

_Jasper: correction, my friend Raven is not an idiot_

_Jasper: but the others totally are…_

“Dude, what the hell?”

“Sorry, Monty. I can’t lie to the group.”

“Okay, study for stats on your own, then, loser.”

“Aw, don’t be that way.”

_Clarke: Don’t listen to Jasper._

_Clarke: And if you do decide to come, you can bring a couple of your friends too._

_Clarke: Balance out the numbers a bit._

_Clarke: We can have a study party at mecha!_

_Roma: That sounds like the world’s worst party_

_Clarke: Why must you bring me down this way?_

_Monroe: Guys, the notifications from this group are unreal_

_Monroe: You are all so distracting_

_Roma: loool sorry M_

_Jasper: I suggest you mute us until you’re done with exams_

_Monroe: I think I will_

_Roma: Bye, Monroe!  
_

 

Clarke and Jasper talk through the male and female reproductive systems. For both of them, this is actually the first time that they are looking over these notes. Every few minutes, they begin cracking up at something they read.

“Guys,” Jasper says to the group. “Guys, did you guys know that the clitoris in females is analogous to the foreskin on males?”

“What the hell, Jas?” Monty says incredulously.

“It’s true!”

“Why did you think we would want to know that?” asks Octavia.

“Because it’s interesting,” says Clarke.

“No, it’s weird.”

“Weird and interesting are not mutually exclusive,” Clarke points out.

 

They go back to studying, but it is only a few minutes until they are distracting the others again.

“These words sound like Harry Potter spells,” Clarke announces.

“Oh my God, you’re so right!” exclaims Jasper. “Honestly. _Tunica vaginalis_ sounds like a spell that would give a girl like an instant orgasm.”

“ _Corpus cavernosum_ ,” Clarke says, swishing her hand in the air as if she were holding a wand.

“What’s that?” asks Jasper.

“One of the muscles in the penis.”

“Right. Hey, you know what’s funny? Sperm. They’re so _weak_ ,” Jasper says.

“Yeah, you're right. They're like… incredibly weak,” Clarke agrees. “And useless. Everything we learned in high school biology about sperm swimming up the vagina was a _lie_.”

“Do you guys want to know what really happens?” Jasper asks eagerly.

“About as much as I want to shove this pen in my eye,” Raven says flatly, not even bothering to look up from her notes.

Jasper huffs. “A simple ‘no’ would have been enough.”

“Not for you two.”

“I kinda want to know…”

_“Monty, I thought you were on my side!”  
  
_

**Facebook Chat**  
**5.47PM**

_Anya: maybe the library would not be a terrible idea_

_Anya: Lexa and I definitely need to study_

_Jasper: YASSSS_

_Clarke: She’s more than welcome to come._

_Anya: Maybe we will come and join you after all  
_

 

“Did you guys know that all of your eggs are formed before you’re even born?” Clarke says enthusiastically.

“Yeah, and if a woman runs out of eggs, menopause starts early,” Jasper adds on.

“Hey, I actually knew that!”

_“Octavia, don’t encourage them.”_

Clarke and Jasper grin at each other from across the table before turning back to their notes.

**Facebook Chat**  
**6.03PM**

_Clarke: Anya, what’s the verdict?_

_Clarke: Are you joining the greatest study group ever?_

_Anya: Unfortunately not_

_Jasper: BOOOO!!_

_Anya: My housemate is working at 7, and I honestly cannot be bothered to leave the house so I am just going to study at home today_

_Clarke: Don’t be so lazy._

_Anya: It is raining outside._

_Jasper: Oh shit I didn’t even realise_

_Jasper: How long have we been in here?_

_Clarke: Too long…_

_Clarke: Okay Anya we get it_

_Anya: Perhaps tomorrow we shall join you_

_Clarke: Sounds gooooood!  
  
_

The ‘party’ breaks up around 7.30, when everyone is too hungry to keep going. Raven offers to drive them all home so that they are spared the ordeal of walking in the rain.

“I call shotgun!” Jasper exclaims.

“Nu-uh, you can’t call shotgun until we can actually see the car,” Monty protests.

“That’s not a rule.”

“Yes it is. It’s a legitimate shotgun rule. You can Google that shit.”

Jasper does Google it. Monty is right.

On the car ride home, Octavia randomly remembers that she and Clarke had planned to watch Charlie’s Angels on Monday night, but they never had a chance. She shares this with everyone else.

“Oh, right,” says Clarke. “ _Somebody_ decided to pull a stupid prank on us that night.”

Jasper just grins innocently.

“Let’s watch it tonight,” says Octavia.

“I’m down,” Clarke agrees.

“Can we join?” asks Jasper.

_“No.”_

“Aw, you’re no fun.”

 

Once Jasper and Monty are dropped off at their place, Raven decides to stick around at Clarke and Octavia’s to watch Charlie’s Angels with them. They make it a proper movie night, complete with pizza and popcorn and plenty of pillows and blankets. And they’re all huddled together on the giant bean bag, of course.

It’s only a few minutes in when Clarke gets a text.

 **8.21PM**  
 **Mystery Chatter**  
So when is your first exam?

Clarke smiles at how totally normal this question is. The message also reminds her that she still needs to speak to Raven.

 **8.22PM**  
**PSL Person**  
On Saturday at noon. I’m pretty  
screwed for it

Clarke does not get an immediate reply, so she puts her phone away and concentrates on the movie. Drew Barrymore is lying naked in a bed and someone is singing terribly in the background. It reminds Clarke of her own singing, if she's completely honest with herself.

_Good morning, Starfish._

Octavia cracks up.

“Oh my God, C. I’m going to start calling you starfish.”

Raven bursts out laughing.

“What the hell, O? Why?”

“Because it’s brilliant.”

_Is it the Chad?_

“Oh my God, _The Chad_!”

“I forgot about The Chad.”

The three of them are already on the verge of tears from all the laughter, and the movie has barely even begun.

 **8.41PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
That is rather unfortunate

 **8.41PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Are you studying right now?

 **8.41PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I do not want to disturb you if you  
are studying

Of course she would think that she was disturbing her. Clarke is quick to assure her that there is zero studying going on.

 **8.42PM**  
**PSL Person**  
Nope, I gave up on studying  
for the day

 **8.42PM**  
**PSL Person**  
I’m just watching a movie with  
some friends at home

 **8.44PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Well then I shall leave you to it

Clarke wonders if she will ever get used to the way her chatter seems to simultaneously want to talk to her and also _not_ want to talk to her.

 **8.44PM**  
**PSL Person**  
No, it’s okay, I’ve seen this at  
least 15 times already

 **8.46PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I see

 **8.46PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
May I ask what you are watching?

Clarke briefly wonders why her chatter wants to know, but she is happy to share the information.

 **8.47PM**  
**PSL Person**  
Charlie’s Angels

 **8.47PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I have not seen it

 **8.48PM**  
**PSL Person**  
You should, it’s great

 **8.48PM**  
**PSL Person**  
Group of badass girls beating  
up bad guys

 **8.48PM**  
**PSL Person**  
What’s not to love?

“ _Clarke, stop texting,_ ” Octavia hisses, poking Clarke in the ribs.

“Ow! What’s your problem, Blake?” Clarke exclaims as she rubs the spot where Octavia poked her.

“You’re missing all the good parts. _Stoooooppp_!”

“We’ve seen this a million times, O.”

“Still! You’re not laughing at any of the funny bits!”

“Octavia, are you _pouting_ right now?” Raven says, leaning forward to look at Octavia and stifling a laugh. Octavia does not respond to this.

“Who are you texting, anyway? Is it the mystery chatter again?”

Raven’s eyebrows raise a little. “Who, now?”

Clarke’s phone vibrates silently with a text but she does not check it right away.

“Clarke’s mystery chatter. You know, the one you texted her about on Monday,” Octavia clarifies.

“Wait… you’re _texting_ her?” Raven says, clearly surprised by this development.

“Um… yes?” Clarke answers uncomfortably. She is worried that Raven will disapprove.

“How? Did she leave her number?”

Clarke nods. “Is that... bad? Am I a terrible peer support listener for doing this?”

Raven sighs. “Well… I mean, we aren’t supposed to do this, but…”

“But?” Clarke asks hopefully.

“But it didn’t seem like this girl was going to talk to anyone else, so… I mean, I guess it isn’t the worst thing that you’re texting her. She needs _someone_.”

Clarke smiles, satisfied and relieved with this response. “Okay.”

“Just make sure you take care of yourself, too, yeah?”

“I second that statement,” Octavia adds.

“I will.”

“Okay, now you have to stop texting during the movie,” Octavia says. “We’ve already missed like five minutes of it talking about this.”

Clarke laughs as she goes to read her text.

 **8.49PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I do not really have a lot of time for  
things like movies

 **8.52PM**  
**PSL Person**  
That’s unfortunate

 **8.52PM**  
**PSL Person**  
What keeps you so busy?  
School stuff?

 **8.52PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Yes, amongst other things

 **8.52PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I spend a lot of my time studying, and  
I work part time as well

Clarke instinctively wants to ask her where she works, but she does not do so. That might be pushing the boundaries a little bit. Not that they have exactly set any boundaries, really. But Clarke does not want to be the first to ask any kind of specific questions that her chatter may not be comfortable with. After all, they have not shared any identifying information, with the exception of the phone numbers.

 **8.53PM**  
**PSL Person**  
Are you studying now?

 **8.53PM**  
**PSL Person**  
I don’t want to be a distraction either!

 **8.54PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
No, I am currently at work

 **8.54PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
It is a very slow night, so there is  
really nothing to be distracted from

Clarke smiles to herself. _So, she won’t text from class, but she’ll text from work._

 **8.54PM**  
**PSL Person**  
Do you normally work nights?

 **8.57PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Yes, most nights and some weekends

 **8.57PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
There are bills to be paid, after all

Clarke pauses at this. She recalls what her chatter said about her parents with vivid clarity.

_ever since i came out to them we have not spoken all that much… or at all._

Clarke wonders if they are still helping her pay for things. She does not ask.

 **8.57PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Monday night was the first night  
I took off in a rather long time

She is about to ask her why she took it off, but then Clarke realises that Monday was the night that they had chatted for the second time.

_She took time off work just to apologise to me._

This thought bothers Clarke quite a bit.

 **8.58PM**  
**PSL Person**  
And do you usually work late?

 **8.58PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I generally get home by 1.30 or 2

_Holy shit._

“Clarke, I swear I’m going to confiscate that phone of yours if you don’t start watching this damn movie,” Octavia exclaims. Clarke sticks her tongue out at her. Raven laughs.

 **9.02PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I have to go now

 **9.02PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Work is picking up again

 **9.02PM**  
**PSL Person**  
Oh, right of course!

 **9.02PM**  
**PSL Person**  
Talk to you later

Clarke does not get a reply to this.

“Okay, O. See? I’m putting the phone away!”

“Thank the Lord.”

 

The next scene with The Chad comes up, and the three of them are laughing again.

_Starfish? Starfish, where are you going? Starfish, are you going swimming?_

“I’m changing your name to Starfish on my phone, C,” Octavia declares, already pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Goldilocks was solid, but it’s time to move on.” Raven laughs and does the same. Clarke just shakes her head.

 

It is past three in the morning when Clarke is once again woken up by her phone. Another text. Clarke had purposefully chosen not to put her phone on silent for this very reason.

 **3.17AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Are you awake?

 **3.18AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Yes

There is a pause. The chatter does not say anything further.

 **3.19AM**  
**PSL Person**  
How was work?

 **3.20AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Tiring as always

Clarke is tempted to tell her to try to sleep, because this girl _clearly_ does not get enough rest, but she refrains from doing so. She waits to see if the chatter will say anything, but nothing comes.

 **3.22AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Are you finding it difficult to  
fall asleep again?

The three dots appear. Clarke waits.

 **3.23AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Yes.

There is a pause.

 **3.26AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I am so tired

Clarke is fairly certain that this has nothing to do with work. She wishes there was something she could do or say to help her chatter sleep at night, but she knows that isn’t really possible.

 **3.27AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Does talking about it help at all?

There is another slight pause. Clarke waits.

 **3.28AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I think so

Clarke smiles sleepily to herself.

 **3.28AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Then we can start with that

 **3.28AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Okay

 **3.30AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I am not sure what to say

Clarke thinks about this for a second.

 **3.30AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Do you want to talk about her?

 **3.30AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I do not know

 **3.31AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Okay

 **3.32AM**  
**PSL Person**  
We could talk about another little  
thing if you’d like?

 **3.32AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Okay, I can do that

Clarke knows that her chatter needs to be asked something specific. Something to start her off.

 **3.33AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Did she go to Ark?

 **3.33AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Yes

 **3.33AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
We met at Ark

 **3.33AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Back in first year

Clarke is not sure what year her chatter is in now. She tries to think about it. If they went to watch Les Mis together when it came out in Christmas of 2012, and they met in first year, then she must be in at least third year. Clarke is not sure why she bothered to try to figure this out.

 **3.33AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Do you mind if I ask how you met?

There is a long, heavy pause. Clarke wonders if this might be too much. It is most definitely not a little thing. She waits.

The three dots eventually appear. It takes time. Clarke is patient.

 **3.40AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
It was orientation week, and everyone was  
basically introducing themselves to  
everyone. I generally do not care for that  
kind of thing, but she came up to me  
and she smiled at me and she wanted to  
be my friend.

Clarke is surprised by the length of the message. Almost as soon as this one is sent, the dots appear again, so Clarke does not say anything.

 **3.42AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
We were walking back from some dumb  
activity or event and she said she was  
hungry. I had pasta in my room and I asked  
her if she would like some and she said yes.

 **3.42AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
She came up to my room, just like that.

 **3.46AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I spent more time in her room than in  
my own for most of first year

 **3.47AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I do not know when exactly we became  
‘official’ because that kind of thing did  
not seem to matter. We both just knew.

There is finally a pause, and Clarke thinks that she must be done now. Clarke begins to type out a response, but then the three dots appear once again. She deletes the few words that she had typed out.

 **3.50AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
She has been with me for all of  
university

 **3.50AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
We were supposed to graduate  
together

 **3.50AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I am still trying to figure out how  
to do this without her

Clarke gives herself a few moments to absorb the words. She does not know what to say. What is there _to_ say? She doesn’t want to throw out empty words. She decides to go with the truth.

 **3.52AM**  
**PSL Person**  
I don’t know what exactly to say  
here, but I’m glad you are talking  
to me about all of this

 **3.53AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
That is okay. I know that there is  
really not much to say to this

 **3.53AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I am sorry, I did not mean to  
sound quite so intense

Clarke’s heart aches. She does not want her chatter to feel like she can’t keep talking to her. Clarke fumbles over words in her head, wishing she were better at this, wishing she knew the right thing to say.

 **3.54AM**  
**PSL Person**  
There’s no need to be sorry

 **3.54AM**  
**PSL Person**  
If you have more you’d like to  
share, feel free to do that

 **3.54AM**  
**PSL Person**  
I may not know what to say,  
but I can listen

There is a pause. Then the three dots appear.

 **3.57AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I appreciate that

Another brief pause.

 **3.58AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I should probably try to sleep now

Clarke has her doubts as to whether her chatter will actually be able to sleep, but she understands this for what it is. This is the chatter’s way of saying that she can’t keep talking about this tonight. This was a lot for one night, and she needs a break.

 **3.58AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Yes, it’s rather late isn’t it?

 **3.58AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Yes it is

Clarke types out ‘good night’ but then changes her mind. With a little smile to herself, she types out something else instead.

 **3.59AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Good morning

Clarke hopes that this makes her chatter smile as well, even just a little.

 **3.59AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Good morning

 

Clarke’s alarm starts blaring far too soon for her liking. With no more classes, Clarke and Octavia have decided to make it an early day at the library. It nearly kills them, but it has to be done if Clarke is to pass Anatomy.

 **9.29AM**  
**Starfish**  
Octavia and I are hitting up Mecha  
at like 10. Be there or be a regular  
quadrilateral.

 **9.30AM**  
**Ray-Ray Reyes**  
This is early for you guys. I’m  
so impressed!

 **9.30AM**  
**Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Also, please stop trying to be funny

 **9.30AM**  
**Ray-Ray Reyes**  
It’s not working out very well for you

 **9.30AM**  
**Starfish**  
Rude.

 **9.30AM**  
**Starfish**  
That was funny.

 **9.30AM**  
**Starfish**  
I am funny, damn it.

 **9.31AM**  
**Ray-Ray Reyes**  
You keep telling yourself that

 **9.31AM**  
**Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Maybe one day it’ll be true

Clarke does not reply to this.

 

It’s 10.30 when Clarke and Octavia actually get to the library. Raven is already there with Monty. Clarke can hear them talking about something to do with computers and processors and gigabytes and RAM, but it all goes over her head. Technology in general just makes very little sense to her. Raven once tried to teach Clarke how to rewire her Internet, but that ended up being a disaster.

“And you guys call me nerdy,” Clarke says as she drops her bag onto the table.

“Well, looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the haystack,” Raven says.

“Are you saying I sleep on a stack of hay?” Clarke asks, confused.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you live in a barn... Because you have no manners.” After a pause, Raven adds, “Some people say hello to their friends when they greet them.”

“Go jump off a cliff, Raven,” Clarke shoots back as she takes a seat.

“I’ll add that to my list of things to do. Right after _‘piss off grumpy friends who hate early mornings._ ’ How does that sound?”

“I don’t have enough caffeine in me to deal with this right now,” Clarke groans, putting her head down on the table. Raven laughs at this and shares a high five with Monty. Octavia sighs and then excuses herself from the table for a moment. She is back in five minutes with a coffee in hand. Clarke looks up at her and smiles.

“I have never loved you more than I do in this moment,” Clarke says gratefully.

“I think you might be forgetting about some key moments in our friendship, but I’ll allow it.”

Jasper does not arrive until noon. He enjoys sleeping in too much, and, as he puts it, he has given up on anatomy anyway so what’s the point in waking up early?

“Is Anya going to be joining us?” he asks.

“I don’t know. We should ask her,” Clarke says. She suspects that Jasper might have the tiniest crush on Anya, but she knows he will deny it, so she has never asked him. She is just glad that he has moved on from the crush he had on Octavia back in first year. That could have ended really poorly, but thankfully, they are all still friends.

 **Facebook Chat**  
**12.14PM**

_Clarke: Hey, mother hen_

_Clarke: You feel like joining us at mecha?_

_Jasper: We promise our friends don’t bite_

_Jasper: And we won’t scare your housemate away either if she wants to come_

_Anya: That might not be a terrible idea_

_Anya: I will ask Lexa and get back to you  
  
_

“Hey, do you think Lexa’s hot?” Jasper asks.

“How would I know?” Clarke says with a laugh.

“I hope she’s hot,” Jasper continues.

“Calm your hormones, my friend,” Monty says.

“Sorry, who is this Lexa?” Raven asks.

“Friend of a friend,” Clarke answers. “She might be joining us to study a little later.”

“And she’s hot?” Octavia asks in confusion.

“We don’t know.”

“I hope so.”

“Keep it in your pants, dude,” says Monty.

“We said we wouldn’t scare off Anya’s friend,” Clarke reminds him.

“I’m not gonna scare her off. I’m just _kidding_ , guys. Come on, give me _some_ credit!”

 

Anya actually does show up around 2 pm, much to Jasper’s delight, but she arrives alone.

“What happened to your housemate?” Jasper asks once Anya has settled down and the proper introductions have been made.

“She is… busy. Perhaps next time she can join us,” Anya replies. Clarke notices a certain hesitation when she says this, as if there is more to it than just this, but she does not ask further. It is none of her business.

“Right, well… we’re doing the kidneys now. We know very little. Teach us,” Clarke says.

Anya laughs a little. “What makes you think I know any of this?”

“You’re mother hen… you know everything,” Jasper says.

“I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed,” Anya replied with a smile. “Sorry to disappoint… I don’t know any of this either.”

“Well, you can’t know less than these two,” says Octavia. “I’m pretty sure they were reading some of those notes for the _first time_ yesterday.”

Anya raises her eyebrows. “Is that true?”

Clarke and Jasper look somewhat embarrassed, like toddlers being told off by a parent.

“Maybe…”

Anya laughs. “I guess we have a lot to do here, then.”

With Anya around, Clarke and Jasper actually feel like they are being productive. They are also a lot less disruptive to the others, which does not go unnoticed.

“Anya, you should definitely join us more often,” says Monty. “They actually aren’t distracting us all for once.”

“I’ve never seen these two look so focused,” Raven comments.

“Yeah, agreed,” Octavia adds. “I finally understand how you managed to get work done during all of your group meetings.”

Anya smiles. “I have a lot of experience working with little children. It was good practice.”

The others all laugh, but Clarke frowns unhappily. “We are _not_ children.”

“Speak for yourself,” Jasper says. “I’m happy being a child. I'm not ready to be an adult.”

“Jas, you are twenty years old, man,” Monty points out.

“No, I’m not. Stop.”

“Okay, so maybe Jasper is a child,” Clarke concedes. “But I'm not. Who was it that kept everyone calm before that first presentation, when even _you_ were losing your shit?”

Anya screws up her face in distaste. “That first presentation was an awful ordeal. But you make a good case. I take it back.”

Clarke nods in satisfaction. “Damn right, you do.”

Clarke and Octavia are making a food run for the group when Clarke gets a text.

“If that’s Monty or Jasper asking for even more food,” Octavia says when she hears the familiar tone from the phone, “tell them they can forget about it. We only have so many hands.”

“It’s not them, don’t worry.”

 **4.21PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Thank you for talking to me  
last night

Clarke wonders if her chatter will ever stop feeling the need to thank her all the time. Then something occurs to Clarke. Perhaps this is the only way her chatter can think of to initiate conversation. Perhaps this is her way of saying she wants to talk, without actually saying it. Like asking for help without really asking for it. Perhaps, this way she feels a little less weak.

Or, perhaps Clarke is just over-thinking things... again.

Clarke shakes her head and replies to the message.

 **4.21PM**  
**PSL Person**  
Any time

 **4.22PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I might take you up on that offer

 **4.22PM**  
**PSL Person**  
Please do

 **4.22PM**  
**PSL Person**  
I meant it

“Clarke, _will you watch where you’re going?_ You nearly ran into someone,” Octavia says exasperatedly, pulling Clarke along.

“Oops, my bad.”

There are no more texts, so Clarke puts her phone back in her pocket and concentrates a bit more on not bumping into things.

 

The study party breaks up around 9.30, mostly because Octavia cannot stand the thought of staying at the library for a whole 12 hours. Only Jasper and Monty remain behind. Monty stays because he has an exam the next day, and Jasper stays mostly to keep him company. Monty makes him promise not to be _too_ distracting.

Back at home, Octavia and Clarke begin talking about their respective summer jobs.

“I think I need to update my wardrobe,” Octavia says. “I need more professional-looking clothes, you know?” Clarke agrees. Her full-time job over the summer will require more formal attire than Octavia generally tends to wear.

“Any excuse to buy more clothes, right?” Clarke says with a smirk.

“Exactly,” Octavia grins. “Hey, can I try on that blazer of yours?”

Clarke frowns. “You mean my black blazer from Armani Exchange? The one my mother bought me as a graduation present? The one article of clothing I actually care about? My one nice thing? That blazer?”

Octavia hesitates. “Um, yes?”

“No.”

“Are you serious?”

“Blazers are sacred. Especially this one. I have an interview next week and I can’t have you ruining my one nice thing.”

“You are insane. I mean, I knew you had a thing for blazers when you wouldn’t stop admiring yourself before your presentation thing last week… but good _God_ , woman.”

“You don’t own any blazers, O. You wouldn’t understand.

“Why is this the first I am hearing about this obsession?”

“Because I only bring out that blazer for really important stuff.”

Octavia gives up. She knows Clarke won’t budge on this, and it just isn’t worth it.

 

They have dinner and hang around the kitchen chatting for a while, before Octavia says that she is going to shower and head to bed. By this she most probably means that she will be lying in bed on Tumblr for another half hour or so.

Clarke goes to her own room, and sure enough, a little while after Octavia is out of the shower, Clarke gets a text with a Tumblr link.

 **12.11AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
IT’S A HEDGEHOG

 **12.11AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
IN A SWEATER

 **12.11AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
LOOK AT IT

 **12.11AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
LOOK HOW CUTE IT IS

Clarke chuckles and smiles affectionately at the texts.

 **12.12AM**  
**Starfish**  
Very cute

 **12.12AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
You don’t seem to be sharing my  
level of enthusiasm for this hedgehog

 **12.12AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
I am disappointed in you, Starfish

Clarke laughs.

  
**12.12AM**  
**Starfish**  
Sorry to disappoint you.

 **12.12AM**  
**Starfish**  
Go to sleep, idiot.

 **12.12AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
Fine, spoil sport

A few minutes later, Octavia texts her with another link. Clarke is not even surprised.

 **12.16AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
HEDGEHOG IN A CUP!

 **12.16AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
HEDGEHOG

 **12.16AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
IN

 **12.16AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
A

 **12.16AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
CUP

 **12.16AM**  
**Octopus Blake**  
I’M DEAD

 **12.16AM**  
**Starfish**  
We are waking up at 9 tomorrow.

 **12.16AM**  
**Starfish**  
I will drag you out of bed if I must.

 **12.16AM**  
**Starfish**  
Go.

 **12.16AM**  
**Starfish**  
To.

 **12.16AM**  
**Starfish**  
Sleep.

Clarke does not get any more texts from Octavia after this, and she is rather pleased with herself.

  
The next text she receives comes after 4AM.

 **4.13AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Are you awake?

Clarke feels like she is experiencing deja-vu.

 **4.14AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Yes

Clarke waits, letting the silence drag on for a moment, giving her chatter time. The three dots finally appear. Clarke watches them sleepily, stifling a yawn.

 **4.17AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I seem to be having trouble with  
falling asleep

 **4.17AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Is this a recent problem for you?

 **4.17AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
No

 **4.17AM  
****Mystery Chatter  
** Even before, I used to have some  
trouble, but she used to be there  
to help me sleep

 **4.18AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I have not slept easily in about  
6 months now

 **4.18AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I always wake up in the middle of  
the night

  
Clarke’s face wrinkles in concern.

 **4.19AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
It is rather exhausting

 **4.19AM**  
**PSL Person**  
I imagine it must be

There is a pause, and then the dots appear.

 **4.21AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Do you ever have trouble sleeping?

Clarke is taken aback by this question. She freezes. She is not one to open up about herself easily. Even with Octavia, it took time. Clarke initially only turned to her because Octavia was there for pretty much every difficult moment of her life, and vice versa. Even Raven does not know of the things that sometimes keep Clarke up at night.

 **4.24AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I am sorry, I did not mean to pry

 **4.24AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
You do not have to answer that  
if you do not want to

Clarke feels terrible. How can she expect her chatter to open up to her if she is not willing to do so in return? That may have been fine when they were just talking on the Line, but this… this is different.

 **4.24AM**  
**PSL Person**  
No, that’s okay. I was just surprised  
by your question

 **4.24AM**  
**PSL Person**  
The answer is yes

 **4.24AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Sometimes I do have trouble  
falling asleep

There is another pause. Clarke finds that she is actually scared of what might be asked next.

 **4.26AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Can I ask what it is that keeps  
you up at night?

Clarke gulps. It takes her a while to gather her courage. She does not know where to begin, really.

 **4.28AM**  
**PSL Person**  
A few things

 **4.28AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Over time, the list sort of grew

 **4.29AM**  
**Mystery Person**  
What was the first thing on  
the list?

Clarke takes a deep breath and her right hand instinctively goes to touch the watch that is around her left wrist. The watch she never takes off. Her father’s watch.

 **4.29AM**  
**PSL Person**  
My father’s death.

 **4.30AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I see

 **4.30AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Do you mind if I ask how  
he died?

 **4.30AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Cancer

 **4.30AM**  
**PSL Person**  
The kind that kills you slowly  
and painfully

 **4.30AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Over several years

Clarke did not mean to add that last bit, but it’s out there now, for better or worse. She sighs.

 **4.31AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Cancer sucks

Clarke cannot help but laugh a bit at this. Her chatter is usually so eloquent and articulate. Almost formal. This is such a sharp contrast, and Clarke is so tired, and it is so much easier to laugh than it is to cry. So she laughs.

 **4.32AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Indeed it does

 **4.33AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
What was the hardest part of  
dealing with it?

 **4.33AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
If you do not mind me asking

It’s not that Clarke minds, exactly. She is able to talk about it just fine. It’s more so that she generally does not bring it up, so she is unaccustomed to speaking about it. Or texting about it.

 **4.34AM**  
**PSL Person**  
It’s fine, I don’t mind

 **4.34AM**  
**PSL Person**  
I think the hardest part was this  
feeling that I might never have  
anything to look forward to again

There is a pause.

 **4.36AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I am familiar with this feeling.

 _Of course you are,_ Clarke thinks.

 **4.37AM**  
**PSL Person**  
It sucks

 **4.37AM**  
**PSL Person**  
But that feeling… eventually it  
went away

 **4.37AM**  
**PSL Person**  
It did not last forever

 **4.37AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Well, this is good news

Clarke laughs again.

 **4.39AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
What are some things that you  
look forward to?

Clarke has to think about this.

 **4.41AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Well, I have an interview for a  
summer research position   
next week

 **4.41AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
You are looking forward to an interview?

Clarke can almost hear the surprise and confusion in the text, and it makes her chuckle.

 **4.41AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Well, not exactly!

 **4.42AM**  
**PSL Person**  
But if I get it, I’ll be able to work  
at a research centre with kids who  
have learning disabilities and I am  
very much looking forward to that

 **4.42AM**  
**PSL Person**  
If I get it, that is

 **4.42AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I hope you get it then

Clarke is oddly touched by this.

 **4.42AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Thank you

 **4.43AM**  
**PSL Person**  
What is something that you are  
looking forward to?

It is a risky question, Clarke knows. She only hopes that her chatter does not reply with ‘nothing’ because she is not entirely sure how she would respond to that.

The three dots appear, disappear briefly, and then appear again. Clarke wishes she knew what was running through her chatter’s mind.

 **4.45AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Does the new season of Game of  
Thrones Count?

Clarke smiles at this once again. Clearly, her chatter is trying to lighten the mood, and that is okay with Clarke.

 **4.45AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Haha yes, it definitely counts!

 **4.45AM**  
**PSL Person**  
I’m looking forward to that as well!

 **4.46AM**  
**PSL Person**  
It should be out in a few days!

_Maybe that was a few too many exclamation marks._

Clarke shrugs off the thought.

 **4.46AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Yes, I know

 **4.46AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
It comes out on my birthday

Clarke is taken aback once again. The new season of Game of Thrones will be coming out this Sunday, the day between her anatomy and psychology exams. Clarke really wants to know if her chatter has any plans. She hopes that she will do something fun. She doubts it, but she still hopes for it all the same.

She does not ask.

 **4.48AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Costia never cared for Game  
of Thrones

 **4.48AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
She thought there was too much  
gore in it

 **4.48AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
And she had trouble keeping  
track of all of the characters

 **4.48AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Well, that’s understandable

 **4.48AM**  
**PSL Person**  
There are about 10 new people  
every damn season

 **4.48AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Exactly her point

 **4.49AM**  
**PSL Person**  
But I’ve read the books, so  
that helps

 **4.50AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I never got around to reading the  
books, but I always wanted to

 **4.50AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Maybe you can do that this summer?

 **4.51AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Perhaps

 **4.52AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Anyway, I will leave you in  
peace now

 **4.52AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I have to be up early to study

 **4.52AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Right, of course

 **4.52AM**  
**PSL Person**  
When is your first exam?

 **4.52AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Tomorrow

 **4.52AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Or technically today, I suppose

Clarke nearly drops her phone.

 **4.53AM**  
**PSL Person**  
I didn’t know you had an exam  
today!!

 **4.53AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Your first one is tomorrow, correct?

 **4.53AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Saturday

 **4.53AM**  
**PSL Person**  
So yeah technically tomorrow, I guess

Clarke is surprised and touched that her chatters remembers this detail. Clarke does not even remember when exactly she mentioned it.

 **4.53AM**  
**PSL Person**  
But you really need to go to sleep!

 **4.54AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
You do not have to be quite  
so alarmed. It is not until 2pm.

 **4.54AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Okay, but still

 **4.54AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Are you ready for it??

 **4.54AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I will be fine

This is not exactly a direct answer to her question, but Clarke lets it drop because her chatter needs to sleep.

 **4.54AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Okay then

 **4.55AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Good luck!

 **4.55AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Thank you

 **4.55AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Good morning

 **4.55AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Good morning

 

The entirety of Friday is spent at the library for the group, with the exception of Monty. He leaves at 12 to sit his exam, but then he is back at the library with the rest of them once it is over. He has to study for his next exam, which is on Saturday. The Gods of exam schedules were not kind to poor Monty.

Clarke fires off a quick ‘Good luck’ text to her chatter at around 1.30, but aside from this, she is focused on anatomy. There is nothing like the stress and anxiety of the last minute to bring out her most productive side. Even Jasper is in ‘the zone’ as they ask each other questions back and forth. The others are impressed.

 **Facebook Chat**  
**2.12PM**

_Roma: HOW IS ANATOMY GOING, GUYS?_

_Clarke: Terrible, thanks_

_Roma: Wow what happened to ‘confidence is key’ Clarke?_

_Clarke: I am confident that I am screwed_

_Jasper: Guys, you know shit’s bad when even Clarke is freaking out_

_Clarke: I am not freaking out_

_Clarke: I’ve simply accepted my fate_

_Clarke: I don’t even care anymore_

_Roma: loooool_

_Roma: YOU CAN DO IT, GUYS!!_

_Roma: I HAVE FAITH_

_Clarke: You say that because you don’t know how unprepared I am for this_

_Clarke: I should have started studying way earlier_

_Jasper: We’re fucked_

_Clarke: But it’s okay_

_Roma: Aw you guyssss_

_Roma: It’ll be okay_

_Anya: Are the two of you at Mecha again?_

_Jasper: Yeah_

_Clarke: We live here now_

_Jasper: The nights are cold but we manage_

_Roma: Are you two okay?_

_Jasper: Probably not_

_Roma: Oh dear_

_Clarke: We’ll be better once anatomy is over_

_Anya: I will join you there soon_

_Jasper: Sure, misery loves company_

_Clarke: We’re sitting in the same area_

Anya joins them at around 2.45, and it is evident that she is also somewhat nervous. She does not show it quite as obviously as Jasper does, but Clarke can tell. Clarke instinctively takes up the role of reassuring them that it will be okay.

 

Clarke does not think to check her phone until around 7. She has two texts from her mystery chatter, and one from her mother.

 **1.41PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Thank you

 **5.13PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
I hope studying is going  
well for you

 **7.13PM**  
**PSL Person**  
I’m kinda screwed for my exam  
but that’s okay, I guess. How did  
your exam go?

Clarke takes a look at her mother’s text.

 **3.22PM**  
**Birthgiver**  
Don’t want to disturb you because I know  
you’re busy with studying, but I  
hope everything is going well honey.  
Remember to take breaks, and make  
sure you’re eating properly. Love you!  
Send Octavia my love as well. 

Clarke smiles. She feels bad that she hasn’t spoken to her mother all week, because they usually talk at least once every other day.

“Mom sends her love,” Clarke tells Octavia.

Octavia looks up from her notes and smiles. “Aw, tell Mama G. I send my love right back.”

 **7.17PM**  
**Clarke**  
Hey mom, sorry it’s been a  
while. I’ve been at the library like  
90% of the time. I’m eating okay,  
don’t worry! I’ll call you after anatomy  
is over with. Octavia says “tell Mama G  
I send my love right back.” Miss you!

Clarke sets her phone aside and goes back to studying. Raven and Octavia head out around 10.30, but Monty, Jasper, Clarke, and Anya remain at the library until about 2 am. Even so, none of them really feel prepared.

“Okay, I’m calling it,” Clarke says tiredly. “Nothing is going in my brain anymore. I’m going to head home, cry for a little bit, sleep, and then wake up early to study before the exam.”

Anya laughs. “Yes, I think I will do the same.”

“I think we’re pulling an all-nighter,” Jasper says, looking at Monty.

“Oh, yeah. Definitely. I’m nowhere near ready for software development tomorrow.”

“Sleep is important, guys,” Clarke says as she and Anya begin packing up their things.

“So is not failing,” Jasper points out.

“This is true,” Clarke concedes. “But you can’t do that if you fall asleep halfway through the exam.”

“We’ll take naps,” Monty promises. Clarke shakes her head in disapproval, but it is better than nothing. Exam time does strange things to people.

 

Anya and Clarke walk together for quite a while, and they realise that they live somewhat close to each other. Anya turns just a few streets before Clarke’s street, and they wish each other good luck before going their separate ways.

Clarke looks at her phone as she continues to walk alone and sees that she has three texts from her chatter, and another from her mother.

 **8.15PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
My exam went well, I think

 **8.16PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
You have been studying all of this  
time. I am sure you are not quite as  
screwed as you think you are

 **8.16PM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
You need to rest before your exam,  
and don’t worry, I will not bother you  
tonight

Clarke frowns at this. She is touched by her chatter’s consideration, and she really does need to sleep, but she also wants to make it clear that she is not bothered by the late-night texts.

 **2.16AM**  
**PSL Person**  
I’m glad your exam went well!

 **2.16AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Thank you for the positivity

 **2.17AM**  
**PSL Person**  
I’m just leaving the library now,  
and I definitely need to rest, but  
I hope you know that you aren’t  
bothering me when you text me.

That will have to do for now. Clarke looks at her mother’s text next.

 **7.49PM**  
**Birthgiver**  
Okay, good luck. Try to sleep  
early and have a good breakfast  
tomorrow morning. I’ll talk to  
you after your exam.

Clarke does not reply, because she knows her mother will be concerned if she sends a text at 2 am. She will try to remember to reply in the morning.

As soon as her head hits the pillow, Clarke is asleep. She does not receive any texts, and she is instead woken up by La Vie en Rose at 8 am. Clarke does not fully understand why she is somewhat disappointed by this.

She tries to cram a bit of last minute information into her head. She has just gone through the cranial nerves when she receives a text.

 **10.02AM**  
**Mother Hen**  
Good luck!

 **10.03AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
Thanks, Anya! You too :)

Clarke sends a similar ‘good luck’ text to Jasper, and a quick reply to her mother as well, and then she turns back to her notes. At around 10.30, Octavia comes knocking on her door.

“Can I come in?” she asks.

“Yup, door’s open,” Clarke replies, not bothered to get up from her desk.

Octavia opens the door and smiles. “Have you had breakfast?”

“Um…”

“Your mom texted me and told me I have to make sure you have breakfast.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “That woman has no faith in me.”

“Can you blame her?”

“Well, where does she think I get it from?”

“Exactly! She knows you’re like her when it comes to taking care of yourself. So, tell me what you want for breakfast. I’m cooking.” Normally, Clarke worries when Octavia goes near the stove, but she can handle simple things like breakfast. Clarke is grateful for both her mother and her best friend.

 

Clarke is on her way to her exam when she receives another text.

 **11.37AM**  
**Mystery Chatter**  
Good luck. I hope it goes well.

 **11.38AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Thank you, I hope so too

Three and a half hours later, Clarke thinks she has never felt so relieved in her entire life. She’s not entirely sure how the exam went, and she’s certain that she messed up several of the multiple choice questions, but it does not even matter anymore because the exam is _over_ and she is finally _done_ with anatomy for the rest of her undergraduate career. Even though she has another exam on Monday, Clarke decides to give herself the rest of the day off from studying. She has _earned_ it, damn it. She goes straight home and takes a much-needed nap.

When she wakes up, she is not entirely sure what time it is, and she does not really even care all that much. She hasn’t felt this well-rested in _weeks_. Clarke’s stomach growls, and she glances down at her watch.

_Wow, it’s past 9 pm._

She must have been extremely tired.

Clarke checks her phone and sees that it has blown up with notifications and texts. Mostly, it is people asking her how anatomy went, or wishing her luck (a little late, but it’s the thought that counts). Her mystery chatter is one of them. There is also a text from Jasper inviting her out for post-anatomy drinks. As she is replying to the messages, she remembers her promise to call her mother right after her exam. Oops.

Clarke dials the number. Her mother does not answer, so Clarke figures she’ll try again later. Opening up Facebook, Clarke sees that there is a post on her wall from Raven.

NEW GAME OF THRONES EPISODE WAS LEAKED EARLY, YO!

There is a link to go with it. Clarke grins, likes the post, and leaves a comment.

 _Clarke Griffin 9.16PM_  
_YESSS! Let’s watch it together first thing tomorrow?!!_

Raven replies within seconds.

 _Raven Reyes 9.16PM_  
_Done!  
_

 

Clarke is making herself some pasta for dinner when Octavia gets home from the library.

“Did you enjoy your long-ass nap?” Octavia asks.

“Hell yeah. It was beautiful.”

“Lucky you. Raven and I had to suffer at the library alone all day.”

“Really? Where were Jas and Monty?”

“Taking a post-exam celebratory break.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means they went to a bar and got drinks.”

“Oh, right. Jasper texted me about that, but I was too busy having my own celebration.”

“Yeah, except I think your celebration was a lot more low-key than theirs.”

“Yes, it was,” Clarke agrees. She would choose a solid nap over a trip to the bar on most days. Maybe not _every_ day, but most days. “Do you want some pasta?”

“Nah, I already ate. I’m honestly just going to shower and then lie in bed and maybe do some more readings. My body needs my bed right now.”

Clarke laughs. “Alrightie, fair enough.”

Clarke takes her plate of pasta to her room and watches an episode of Friends on her laptop as she eats in bed. She enjoys having some entertainment as she eats. In fact, sometimes she refuses to begin a meal until she has found something to watch. Her food has gone slightly cold on multiple occasions, and she usually finished her meal 5 minutes into the show or movie. Octavia often laughs at her for this.

Once her food is gone and the dishes are done, Clarke goes on her laptop and debates whether or not she feels like pulling up her psych notes. She knows that she won’t be able to sleep for a while because of her epic nap. She can’t quite find it in herself to be upset that her sleep schedule will be messed up again now. That nap was _worth it_.

She decides that she might as well be a good student and start on psych. She looks down at her watch. Technically, it is already Sunday, so she has used up her day off from studying. Another thought occurs to her once she realises that it is past midnight.

_It’s her birthday.  
  
_

She figures her chatter will probably be at work (she does not strike Clarke as someone who would skip work in order to celebrate her birthday), but she sends a text anyway.

 **12.04AM**  
**PSL Person**  
Happy birthday!

 **12.11AM  
Mystery Chatter**  
Thank you. Can't talk now, work  
is busy. 

Clarke smiles, surprised that her chatter made the effort to reply even though she is busy. She expects that she will probably receive another text some times after 3 am, so she turns back to her psychology notes.

 

It is exactly 2.17 am when Clarke’s phone begins to ring. She picks it up and stares at the screen in what she can only describe as pure shock.

_Mystery Chatter is calling.  
  
_

For a second, Clarke is not sure what to do. She is confused and surprised, but more than anything else, she is _worried._

She answers the call.

“Hello?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me all about your feels (the more detailed, the better) in the comments, or on Tumblr at thesummerofrain. You can also follow me there if you want updates on how this fic slowly but surely consumes my life.
> 
> Also, here is the picture of the hedgehog in the sweater.  
> https://41.media.tumblr.com/4f1b3ae638176c494689d933879c56b8/tumblr_mi3360r3zx1s0iijko1_500.jpg
> 
> And the hedgehog in the cup  
> http://www.hedgehogcentral.com/photos/albums/userpics/10189/normal_hedgie%20copy.jpg


	4. Regressus - You Still Have All of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I suggest you listen to My Immortal by Evanescence, but that's up to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not chapter 4. Think of this as a kind of rewind, taking you to new places in the story.

It is just after 1 in the morning when she finally gets off work. The lights are not on outside the house when she tiredly saunters up to her front porch. She is looking down at her phone, trying to decide whether or not she wants to send a text, so Lexa does not notice the package waiting on the welcome mat until she accidentally stubs her toe on it.

Lexa groans under her breath, gritting her teeth against the sharp pain. She makes an effort to remain quiet so as not to disturb Anya, who is probably sleeping. Lexa does not quite understand how Anya manages to be in bed by midnight on most nights, especially during exams.

She unlocks the door and picks up the package. It is heavy, and it appears to be addressed to her.

_I do not recall ordering anything._

Perhaps Anya has gone and ordered some sort of present, though Lexa cannot imagine why it would be sitting on the front porch so late at night if this were the case. She is too tired to try to figure it out. Switching off the living room lights (which Anya always leaves on for Lexa’s benefit), Lexa takes the package into her small room and tosses it on her bed. She does not return to it until she is changed into a pair of shorts and a hoodie and has brushed her teeth.

She opens up the package to find an envelope and a wrapped box of some sort. It is most definitely a birthday present. Lexa sighs.

_I told you not to get me anything, Anya._

She goes for the letter first. As soon as she pulls out the envelope, Lexa freezes. Her name is written in the centre. She recognizes this handwriting. It does not belong to Anya.

Lexa did not know that it was possible for her heart rate to increase so dramatically so fast. She cannot bring herself to open it just yet.

It takes her five minutes. Five whole minutes of simply standing there, perfectly still except for the trembling of her hands, just staring at the four letters written neatly in Costia’s writing.

 _Breathe, Lexa,_ she tells herself. _Don't be so weak._

She struggles to tear open the envelope. She needs to know what this is, but she is terrified of finding out.

**October 6th, 2014**

**My Dearest Lexa,**

Lexa has received countless letters, all beginning with these three words. She pauses and tries desperately to gain control of her emotions. It does not work. The shaking of her hands gets worse.

_You can do this, damn it._

**My Dearest Lexa,**

**Happy birthday!!! I hope I’ve finally managed to surprise you this year. I’ll have you know I started planning this the week after you surprised me for my birthday, because I had to top your wonderful gift (you know how competitive I get). Lincoln told me about this guy who delivers stuff at specific dates and times. This better arrive right at midnight on your birthday, or else something has gone wrong, and I will need to have some words with Lincoln...**

_Yes, something did go terribly wrong._

**Am I the best or what?**

Lexa closes her eyes momentarily. _Yes, you were the best.  
_

She continues reading, hungrily eating up the words, not caring about what this will do to her after.

**Technically, this is a letter from the past. I’m probably sitting beside you as you read this, reading over your shoulder with a stupid grin on my face.**

Lexa thinks her heart might explode from how badly she wishes this were true.

**Look at me and show me that beautiful smile of yours right… now!**

**Did you do it? Good. Now give me a kiss for being such a wonderful girlfriend.**

Lexa recalls the way it felt to kiss Costia. She can almost feel Costia’s breath on her lips. Her shoulders shake from the effort of trying to maintain some semblance of control. She has not let herself think about this in several months. Tears sting in the corners of her eyes, but she refuses to let them fall.

**I know we both don’t really do the whole ‘sentimental’ thing very well, but I figure I need to make this birthday letter slightly more special than all of the others. So, here goes.  
**

**Right now, you’re sitting at your desk going through your readings, and you are doing that thing you do with your forehead when you concentrate. I’ve never told you this, but it’s actually the cutest thing in the world. The only word that comes to mind as I look at you right now is exquisite (And you know how important words are to me).**

**Honestly, half the time when we’re together, I am just in awe of you. I mean, you’re silly, and you’re sarcastic, and you make terrible jokes, but you are also so very mature in all the ways that actually count. You are thoughtful and kind and good, even if you don’t let the world see it. I can see it, Lex. I’ve always been able to see it. It’s been an absolute privilege to watch you grow and become the amazing person you are over the past few years. Hopefully, I get to keep watching for many years to come.**

_But you won’t, Cos. And it is all my fault. And I am so, so sorry._

**You’re going to change the world some day, Birthday Girl. I know it’s true, and I only hope I get to be there beside you when you do. (Hey, that rhymed!)**

**I don’t say this kind of thing often enough, but I want you to know that I am so very glad I met you in first year. I will forever be grateful that I said yes to that random (and somewhat reclusive) girl who invited me to her room for pasta the day I met her. It’s the best decision I’ve ever made.**

_And inviting you up was the best decision I ever made as well._

**You are my lobster. You are my person. You complete me.  
** **(And any other cheesy references that you can think of.)**

**I love you.**

**Yours always,**  
**Cos**

**P.S. I hope you like your present. It was almost impossible hiding it from you.**

Lexa blazes through the letter so fast that she barely has time to process it. So she reads it again.

And then again.

And then a fourth time.

She holds the letter against her chest and she wills herself to be strong, even though she has not felt this weak since November. She finds herself sinking to the ground, her legs unable to carry her weight. Lexa pulls her knees up to her chest and rocks back and forth slightly, still clutching the letter as if it is a lifeline and she is drowning. She certainly feels as though she is drowning.

She tries to breathe deeply, but it just comes out shaky and shallow. She sits there for a few moments, not knowing what to do or how to calm down. She needs to calm down.

Slowly reaching into her pocket, Lexa pulls out her phone. Her hands are still shaking as she types in the number that is still engrained permanently into her memory. Lexa thinks she must be some kind of masochist, but in this moment, she does not care how much pain this will cause her in the future.

She has not let herself call this number in months, but right now, she needs to hear Costia’s voice. The thought of hearing Costia say her name again, and not merely in a dream, is almost too much to bear.

_This number has been disconnected._

Lexa’s hand tightens around her phone.

_No._

She has been paying the phone bills all this time so that _this exact thing_ did not happen. She has long since packed away all of Costia’s belongings, and taken down the pictures… but this _one_ thing she had held on to. Though she has not called, and though she has deleted the number from her phone, Lexa has continued to pay for this phone line. Even if it meant a few extra shifts a month. The knowledge that she could hear Costia’s voicemail if she truly needed to (as she needs to right now) has been a small kind of comfort to her. And now this, too, has been taken away from her.

_I did not even get to listen to it one last time. Why did I not call when I still had the chance? Why was I so stubborn? What the hell was I trying to prove, anyway?_

Lexa wants to scream. She wants to throw her phone across the room. She wants to break something. But she does not do any of these things. Instead, she closes her eyes and tries to focus on her breathing again.

 _Deep breath in, deep breath out, Lexa,_ she tells herself.

It does not work.

She opens her eyes again and gazes at the first number on her phone’s call log. She has erased Costia’s name from her phone, but she cannot erase her from her mind, or from her heart. She does not want to do that. She does not know what she wants. She just knows that she does not deserve to be freed from this pain.

Lexa’s hand still shakes as she goes to call the number again, but she stops herself. There is no point. It would only be foolish. She lightly tosses the phone onto her bed as her eyes turn to the empty spaces on her walls that once held their photos. She shakily drags herself to her feet and walks over to her closet, shoving aside all her clothing so that she can reach the shoebox that sits at the very back. She has not touched it since she first placed in there, around five months ago. She pulls it out now, and she sits on the floor of her closet with her feet crossed, going through the contents.

Her hand still trembles.

Lexa cringes internally at how few photos there are in here. In her mind, she agonizes over the way Costia used to smile at her and ask to take pictures. And, of course, Lexa would get annoyed and refuse. Lexa was never much of a “photo person.” She cannot find the words to express how much she wishes this had not been the case. If she could go back, she would say yes to every selfie, every cheesy “couple” picture, just so she could have more images of Costia’s smile.

_I would say yes to everything, Cos._

But she cannot go back. She cannot change the past. She cannot make up for all of her mistakes. She knows this.

She needs to stop being so weak.

Lexa is suddenly hit by a wave of fatigue, no doubt brought on by her lack of sleep. Her body sags even more, partially covered by the clothes hanging around her. She simply sits there and wishes that the darkness would swallow her whole, but she has no such luck.

When she is finally able to tear her eyes away from the image of Costia grinning up at her, her gaze falls on the wrapped present that still lays waiting for her on her bed. Costia’s last gift to Lexa. Lexa cannot quite bare to open it just yet, so she silently puts it with the shoebox in the back of her closet.

She does not put away the letter just yet.

No, Lexa reads the letter again. And then one more time. She stares at it until the searing pain in her heart settles into a familiar dull ache, and the words seem to lose all meaning. She wonders when she became addicted to causing herself this kind of anguish. She wonders if this is what losing her mind must feel like.

And still she continues to stare at the page with an indescribable longing.

 **Yours always,**  
**Cos**

_There is no such thing as always._

A text from Lincoln is what finally draws her out of her haze. Her hand goes to her phone, but she does not want to open his message right now. She does not stop to let herself feel too guilty about this - all of the guilt that she is capable of feeling has already been used up. Instead, she impulsively hits the second name on her list of recent messages.

_PSL Person._

She touches the call button before she can even process why she is doing this. She does not know what she hopes to gain out of it. With every ring, Lexa’s mind rages, yelling at her to just _hang up the phone_ , because surely the only thing she will accomplish from this is to drive away the one person who talks to her as though she is a normal human being.

She should be able to deal with her own shit on her own. She should not be bothering other people with her madness. She should hang up.

She does not hang up.

The call is answered on the fourth ring.

_“Hello?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry. Truly, I am. It was particularly agonising for me to write from Lexa's point of view, and I'd really appreciate hearing what you guys thought of it. Yell at me in the comments, or on Tumblr under thesummerofrain.
> 
> MAJOR thanks to thepristinelyungifted and biwarrior for being awesome and helping me make this as painful as humanly possible. Also shoutout to haelstorm and dimplesbrochu for their input!
> 
> I may decide to do another rewind at some point later on in the story, especially if people enjoyed this one.


	5. Your Heart Wears Thin (I Will Hold You Up)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the song Beside You by Mariana's Trench

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some Game of Thrones spoilers for the end of season 4/first episode of season 5. It'll be pretty obvious when it's about to come up, but I'll put the specific bits in bold so you know to avoid them!. You won't be missing much, don't worry!

Clarke waits for a response to her “hello” but none seems to be forthcoming. Someone is breathing very deeply on the other end, the way you do when you are trying to calm yourself down. It sounds shaky and weak. Clarke is even more worried after hearing this. She thinks she hears a voice begin to say something, but nothing comes of it.

“Hello?” Clarke says again after a few seconds. “Is everything okay?”

Her question goes unanswered, because all Clarke hears is the dial tone.

_She hung up on me._

Clarke is confused beyond words. She hits the ‘call back’ button without thinking twice about it. It is only when she is listening to her phone ring that she begins to question if this is a good idea. She stands up and begins to pace her room as she debates the appropriateness of this call. She could simply text her chatter back and ask if anything is wrong instead. That would probably be the right thing to do.

For some reason, though, this idea does not sit well with her. There must have been a reason why her chatter was suddenly calling, and why she sounded like she was in the middle of some kind of panic attack.

_Screw appropriate._

After five rings, right when Clarke is about to give up, her call is answered. Clarke is unsure of what will happen next, but this time, she waits for her chatter to speak first. It takes a few seconds.

_“I am sorry for calling you,”_ says a quiet voice from the other end. It is barely over a whisper, and it sounds rushed and shaky. _“I should not have done that.”_

“There’s no need to apologise,” Clarke responds instantly. She struggles to find the right words to say next, still pacing around her relatively small room in frustration. “Are you… Did something… Is there something you want to talk about?”

There is a pause, and Clarke hears a sigh from the other end. Shee waits.

_“I do not wish to burden you with my problems.”_

Clarke can understand not wanting to be a burden to others, even though she wishes more than anything that her chatter - her caller? - did not see it this way. She has probably said similar words to Octavia multiple times. Each time, Octavia tells her not to be a complete idiot.

“You are not burdening me,” Clarke says slowly and clearly, wanting to make sure that her words are understood properly. “I am not doing anything else right now. You did not wake me up or disturb me.” Clarke hesitates for a second to figure out how she wants to phrase her next words. “I want to listen to whatever it is that’s on your mind. Okay?”

She gets a quiet and hesitant _“Okay”_ in response, and it will have to do.

“Okay,” Clarke confirms with a nod. She does not know why she decided to nod, because obviously there is nobody around to see it.

A silence follows her words, and she cannot help but think that a pause on the phone is exponentially more tense and agonizing than a pause in a chat or a text. She knows that this silence is important, so she does not attempt to break it.

_“So… you are female?”_

Clarke frowns at the change of topic and the slightly awkward wording, but she does not comment on it. She is obviously stalling, but that’s understandable. Also, Clarke realises that even though she knew that her chatter was a girl, her chatter has known virtually nothing about Clarke this whole time.

“Yes, I am.”

_“Right.”_

There is another pause.

Finally, Clarke hears a soft sigh, and then her chatter says very quietly, _“Everything hurts.”_

Clarke can hear how lost and helpless she sounds, and the ache she feels in her heart at this almost surprises even her. It is one thing to read a message, and another thing entirely to actually hear the emotion in someone’s voice. She is alarmed by these words, and the way her chatter appears to be on the verge of tears, but Clarke does not vocalise any of her concern. She simply listens.

_“I just - when I came home - I did not expect - She, she never - it was just there, and I just - I didn’t - ”_

The voice keeps trailing off. There are no complete sentences, and nothing seems to be making any sense. Clarke can hear the way the voice on the other end is shaking and becoming increasingly frantic. Clarke’s brain instinctively goes back to her training.

_I need to help her calm down. I need to make sure she isn’t in any danger._

“Hey,” Clarke says softly. “Listen to me. Focus on my voice. _Breathe_.”

There is a long, shaky exhale of breath on the other side. And then another. _“Okay.”_ Her voice sounds slightly less panicked now.

“Okay, good. Now, can you tell me what’s going on? Are you in any kind of danger right now?”

_“I am only in danger of losing my mind.”_

Clarke gulps. _I wasn’t trained for this shit,_ she thinks to herself. _This is exactly why we’re only supposed to take calls at the hub, with another listener there to help. I don’t know what I’m doing here! I don't want to mess this up._

“Do you want to talk about why you’re feeling that way?”

There is a brief pause.

_“Not particularly, no.”_

Well, there goes that option.

“Okay. That’s okay. Would you like to keep talking though?”

There is another, significantly longer pause. Clarke worries that her chatter might hang up again, that this might be too much for her to openly admit. This might be too close to being _weak_.

_“I think so.”_

Clarke is surprised by this, but certainly not in a bad way. It feels like she might actually be making some progress with her chatter now.

_“I… I don’t want to feel alone right now.”_

Clarke stops pacing her room, her body freezing in shock and concern and all kinds of other emotions that she is not even able to name at this moment.

_This is not good. This is most definitely not good._

“Okay. Is there anyone with you right now?”

_“No... My housemate is sleeping, and I don’t want to bother her.”_

Clarke has to resist the urge to groan out loud at this.

_“She has an exam tomorrow morning at 9. I… I cannot do that to her.”_

Clarke sighs and feels somewhat guilty for being frustrated with her chatter. She is only trying to be a considerate friend, after all, and Clarke knows that she would most likely have done the same thing if this were her and Octavia. But none of this will help her chatter right now.

“That’s very considerate of you.”

_“Sure.”_

“We can keep talking for as long as you would like.”

There is a pause.

_“I do not really know what to say.”_

“That’s fine.” Clarke thinks about it for a moment. Her chatter needs time, so Clarke will give it to her. “If you’d like, I could talk to you for a while and you can just listen without having to respond. Or, if you’d prefer, we can even just stay on the phone without talking, and if you do happen to have anything to say, you can say it whenever you feel like it.”

_“Okay.”_

“Okay… which one?”

_“You can talk to me.”_

“Sure.”

Clarke begins talking about her anatomy exam earlier that day. She tells her chatter about how she completely guessed 4 of the multiple choice questions. She talks about how she got another 5 questions wrong for sure, because she couldn’t completely avoid overhearing other people discussing the exam right after it was over. She talks about her wonderfully long and refreshing nap, and how she spent the rest of the day not doing anything. Her chatter does not say much, only making the occasional monosyllabic comment, but Clarke knows that she is listening.

Eventually, Clarke feels as though she has rambled on for a bit too long, and she is sort of running out of things to say. Luckily, her chatter must sense this, because she decides to speak up.

_“Thank you.”_

Clarke is not entirely sure why she is being thanked, but she accepts it anyway. “You’re welcome.”

After a few moments of silence, her chatter sighs and then begins to speak again.

_“It is just so incredibly hard for me.”_

“What is?” Clarke asks.

_“Every time I think I am starting to feel something that borders on normal, something happens and I am thrown right back to where I was in November.”_

Clarke wonders what has happened this time. She does not ask.

_“And every time, it gets a little bit harder to go back to being ‘okay’ even just on the surface. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make it stop. I am losing my mind here and I just… I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I am so damn tired of not knowing anything... It is extremely inconvenient.”_

Clarke frowns at the defeat that is so evident in her voice. It is almost comical, the way her chatter describes her feelings as _extremely inconvenient_. Clarke knows what she is trying to do, but she will not let her make light of her emotions right now. She should not downplay her feelings.

“It’s okay to not know what to do sometimes.”

_“Right.”_

“I mean it. You’re still going through a lot, and it’s okay to not have everything figured out.”

There is a pause.

_“Okay.”_

That’s a start, at least, Clarke thinks. Even if she doesn’t really believe me right now.

_“Thank you. I don’t know what it is, but... your voice… it is very calming.”_

Clarke smiles, pleased that she is able to help even a little bit.

_“But I’m still just so… “_

Clarke waits, but her chatter does not finish this sentence.

“What is it that you are feeling right now?” Clarke prompts gently.

_“Alone...”_ comes the immediate reply. _“And lost and hopeless and confused and frustrated, too, but mostly just… alone.”_

“Okay,” Clarke says. “Okay, where are you?”

_“What?”_

Clarke hesitates a moment, not sure what she is doing or why she is doing it. All that really registers in her mind is that this girl is alone and that is _not_ okay.

“Right now. Where are you?”

_“I am in my room…”_

“Yes, but where do you live? Do you live on or near campus?”

_“I live - I’m sorry, I do not understand the point of these questions.”_

Clarke takes a deep breath. “I’m going to come over,” she clarifies.

_“Wh - what?”_ The shock is evident in her tone and her voice. It makes Clarke cringe slightly.

“I am coming to your house,” Clarke says slowly, letting the words sink in. There is a long silence, and Clarke thinks she hears something the resembles a very strained sigh.

_“You… that's not... you do not need to do that.”_

“Maybe not, but I would like to anyway.” Clarke hesitates and then adds, “As long as you aren’t, um, uncomfortable with that.”

Another lingering silence follows her words. Clarke knows that her chatter will not want to openly admit it if she needs someone with her right now - that would be weak. This is why Clarke did not explicitly ask if the chatter wanted her to come over, instead checking to make sure she didn’t _not_ want her to come.

Clarke waits, hoping that her offer will not be declined. She is not quite sure why she is so invested in helping this anonymous girl, but she is. And she wants to be there for her.

_“I do not - I wouldn’t - “_ There is a deep breath, shaky from the other side of the line. _“I am not entirely opposed to the idea,”_ the caller replies very quietly, rushing the words. It is almost as if she hopes that Clarke will not even hear them, but Clarke does not miss it.

“Text me your address,” Clarke says, her tone leaving no room for protest now that she is certain that this is what her chatter actually needs and wants (whether she will admit it or not).

_“I... okay.”_

“Okay.”

The phone call abruptly ends, and Clarke is left listening to the dialtone once again. She tosses her phone on her desk and runs to grab her jacket, her keys, and a pair of clean socks, all the while glancing anxiously at her phone every few seconds to check for a text. She is not entirely sure if it will even come.

_I really should have seen this coming._

Clarke debates whether she should text or call back again, but she is spared from having to make this decision when she finally receives the text she has been waiting for.  
  


**2.49AM**  
 **Mystery Chatter**  
19 Polis Avenue.  
  


Clarke has her shoes on and is out of the front door in under two minutes.

  
  


Clarke knows where Polis Avenue is. It’s actually no more than a seven minute walk from her own house. Clarke makes it there in four. She hesitates once she is standing in front of the door, unsure of what to do now.  
  


**2.55AM**  
 **PSL Person**  
I’m at the door

**2.55AM**  
 **PSL Person**  
I don’t want to wake your  
housemate up

**2.55AM**  
 **Mystery Chatter**  
The door is not locked

**2.55AM**  
 **Mystery Chatter**  
My room is the one beside the kitchen  
  


Clarke is somewhat uncomfortable letting herself into someone else’s house, but she does it, putting her phone on silent as she walks in. She notices a line of shoes beside the door, so she quickly removes her own and places them with the others. She does not waste time looking around, and heads straight for the room beside the kitchen. She gently knocks on the door and hears a quiet _“come in”_ from the other side, so she opens the door. She does not know what to expect on the other side.

It feels almost surreal for Clarke to finally have a face to go along with the text messages. She is no longer a mystery chatter. Now, she is just a girl, sitting cross-legged in a standard Ark U hoodie, hugging a pillow. A piece of paper is clutched tightly in both of her hands. She looks so small in this moment that it makes Clarke’s stomach turn.

Clarke enters the bedroom, closing the door behind her, and the two of them simply look at each other for a while. Clarke cannot help but note that this girl looks vaguely familiar, but she does not think too much of it. Clarke takes in the way she is hunched around her pillow as if she needs it to protect herself, or to hold herself together. She takes in the dark circles and tired expression on her face. What really strikes Clarke, though, is how _haunted_ her eyes look.

“Good morning,” Clarke says eventually, not really knowing what else to say, but feeling like she should say _something_.

Clarke thinks she sees a corner of the girl’s lip pull up in recognition just slightly, for the briefest second, before it drops back down. “Good morning.”

There is another silence. Clarke does not enter further into the room. Suddenly, this is feeling like a bad idea. She should have thought this through a little more before she decided to just show up at a stranger’s house in the middle of the night.

_But she’s not really a stranger._

“Are you okay?” Clarke asks.

“Yes, I am fine,” comes the immediate response, almost like a reflex. Clarke can hear the way her voice wavers unsteadily, threatening to break at any moment. The girl averts her eyes at the lie.

“Are you sure?” Clarke asks gently, tilting her head slightly to the side.

There is the briefest hesitation, and then the girl’s eyes water and her voice cracks completely as she lets out a small and devastating _“No.”_

Suddenly, there are tears beginning to spill out of the girl’s eyes, and Clarke stares in shock for a half a second. She was not expecting this. Honestly, she doesn’t know what she was expecting, but it was certainly not this. Words from her first chat suddenly spring to her mind.

_  
not that i ever cry about it_

  
Recovering quickly from her shock, Clarke instinctively crosses the distance between them, sidestepping a few stray pieces of clothing lying around on the floor. She comes to stand in front of the girl and wraps her arms around her without thinking twice about it. The girl tiredly leans in, resting her head on Clarke’s shoulder, letting herself be held. Her body is trembling, and her breaths are shallow and shaky.

At first, the girl’s arms remain limp in her own lap, but she eventually lifts them and clasps them around Clarke’s back, holding on more tightly than Clarke would have expected. When the girl’s breathing finally becomes less unsteady, Clarke gently begins to ease away from her just slightly. The girls arms reflexively tighten around Clarke’s back, and Clarke can almost hear the words that remain unsaid.

 

_Don’t leave._

 

Then, almost as if she has realised what she is doing, the girl recoils and retracts her arms. Clarke leans down so that she is on the girl’s level and can look into her eyes. Her hands remain on the girl’s shoulders.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere,” Clarke reassures her gently. The girl looks away, but Clarke sees her give the tiniest of nods. Clarke silently closes her hand around the girl’s own, still wrapped tightly around the piece of paper. Clarke gently eases the paper from her grip, and the girl resists for only a second before her hand loses all strength and she lets go. Turning briefly to place the paper on the nearby desk, Clarke sits beside the girl on her bed and extends her arms to hold her once more.

This time, the girl’s entire body begins to shake with quiet but violent sobs, the ones she has been struggling desperately to contain for so very long. Clarke wonders if this type of silent crying is something that she has had to learn over the years, or if it is a more recent development, so that her housemate would not hear. Clarke cannot decide which is worse.

Many thoughts are running through Clarke’s mind, but it suddenly occurs to her that this seems like a rather uncomfortable position for the girl. Her torso is twisted awkwardly so that she may rest in Clarke’s arms. Slowly and delicately, Clarke lowers them both so that they are lying on the bed, and the girl shows no signs of protest. She shifts to hide her face in Clarke’s chest. She curls up against Clarke’s body. Clarke gently strokes her hair as the quiet sobs continue to escape from the girl, her other arm holding the girl close protectively. Every so often, the shaking becomes worse as a fresh wave of emotion consumes the girl.

Clarke wishes that she knew what was going on in the girl’s head. She wishes that there was something she could do or say to take the pain away. But this is not how life works. Clarke remains silent and simply lets the girl cry six months’ worth of unshed tears. This is not a time for words.

 

Clarke is not sure how long they remain this way. Minutes, hours, days, even years could have flown by in the time that they lay there together. Eventually, the sobs come to an end. The girl grows still, and her breathing slows. Clarke does not say anything. Shee begins to think that maybe the girl has fallen asleep, and that’s okay. God knows this girl needs the rest. But then, almost out of nowhere, the girl begins to pull away. Clarke lets her.

She sits up in bed, moving away and drawing her knees up to her chest, hugging her legs. It is a while before she says anything, but when she does, her voice is cracked and hoarse and very quiet.

“You did not have to come.”

Clarke sits up as well and then replies in an equally quiet tone, trying to lace her words with as much sincerity as she possibly can. “I wanted to.”

There is a brief pause.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They fall back into silence, and Clarke cannot help but notice the way the girl is refusing to even look at her. Clarke sees no need to fill up the quiet with words, but the girl must not be of the same opinion, because it is not very long before she is speaking again.

“I haven’t…” She pauses, shakes her head minutely, and then tries again, more slowly. “I do not normally... let myself… fall apart this way.” She is so very hesitant and unsure with her words.

“It’s okay to fall apart sometimes,” Clarke says softly. The girl does not reply. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” The response comes instantly. This one word is laced with more sadness and fear and pain than Clarke would have thought possible.

“That’s okay.”

The girl hesitates, evidently feeling guilty for her instantaneous rejection. She seems to be at a loss for words, so Clarke helps her out.

“Hey, it’s okay, really. We don’t have to talk about it. We don’t have to talk at all.”

The girls eyes finally turn to look at Clarke, and Clarke thinks she sees some fear there, before it disappears altogether and is replaced by what looks like practiced indifference.

“I’m not going to leave,” Clarke reassures her again, “but I can just sit here and we can both not talk for a while.” The girl looks away again, and Clarke thinks that she will not respond, but she does. Her voice is barely above a whisper as she breathes out a soft “Okay.”

Clarke leans back against the head of the bed. The girl leans against the adjacent wall, her head back and her eyes closed. They sit there on the bed in silence. Clarke watches the girl, and the girl frequently glances at Clarke. They lock gazes for the briefest of seconds, and then the girl closes her eyes again.

She seems so very tired. Clarke wonders if she wants to be held again, but is too proud to ask. Clarke does not know how to offer without it being incredibly awkward and uncomfortable for the girl, so she does not say anything. Eventually, the girl lifts her head and speaks .

“Are we just going to sit here indefinitely?”

“We could.”

There is a pause, and the girl frowns. She does not say anything, though.

“Or we could do something,” Clarke offers. She thinks the girl must need some kind of distraction that does not involve actually _talking_ about her feelings. Sometimes there needs to be a kind of buffer to make things less uncomfortable. Clarke gets it.

The girl is hesitant when she asks, “Like what?”

Clarke racks her brain, and then suddenly a light bulb goes on in her mind. She has to stop herself from smiling as she says, “The new episode of Game of Thrones got leaked early online…”

The girl raises her eyebrows just slightly at this.

“We could watch that together if you’d like?”

She waits to see whether her offer will be accepted. It briefly registers in Clarke’s mind that Raven will be mad at her for watching it without her, but Clarke pushes that thought aside. She can deal with Raven’s temper tantrum later.

“I think I would like that.”

“Okay,” Clarke says with a smile. Neither of them move at first, and then Clarke asks, “Do you have a laptop that we could watch it on, maybe?”

“Oh, right, of course,” the girl responds, embarrassed by her inaction. She stiffly climbs out of the bed and goes to retrieve her laptop from her bag. She brings it back to the bed and hesitates, not sure what to do now.

Clarke shifts towards the far side of the bed and is now in the corner leaning against two walls. The girl climbs back up to fill the spot that Clarke has vacated. She pulls open her laptop and Clarke makes sure not to watch as she types in a password to unlock the screen. She briefly wonders if it is something along the lines of _Costia_ , but she quickly dismisses the thought. It is absolutely none of her business.

“I do not know how to find the episode,” the girl says.

“I can do it,” offers Clarke. The girl hands her laptop over without a word, and without making eye contact.

Clarke notices that her desktop background is plain and black. She wonders if it had previously been a picture of her and Costia. She does not comment on it or ask. Clarke expertly pulls up a stream of the episode from primewire. She has watched countless movies and shows on this site; she knows how it’s done.

Soon enough, they are listening to the familiar opening theme music. Clarke frowns.

“I forgot how long the intro was. Do you mind if I forward this?” Clarke asks.

“Go ahead.”

Clarke skips ahead.

 

**“Who the heck are these two girls?” Clarke asks.**

**The girl shrugs. “I would guess that one is Cersei.”**

**A few moments later, it’s clear that she was right.**

 

Clarke tries her best not to talk while watching, she truly does. But she is too used to the ongoing commentary that goes on whenever she watches anything with Octavia or Raven.

 

**“Wait, whose funeral is this? Who died?”**

**The girl spares Clarke a look of mild surprise, and something that could be bordering on amusement. “Tywin Lannister. Do you not remember the last season?”**

**“Oh, right! Sorry... my memory is terrible. It’s been a while.”**

 

Clarke thinks the girl almost smiles at this. Clarke wonders what it would look like if she smiled properly. She wonders if she will ever get to see that.

The girl is sitting as far away from Clarke as the bed will allow, and she does not look comfortable. She may even be in danger of falling off. Clarke feels bad. It’s _her_ bed, after all. Suddenly, Clarke feels as though she is imposing, even though she knows that the girl wanted her to stay.

“You don’t need to sit quite so uncomfortably,” Clarke says with a hint of a smile.

The girl whips her head around to look at Clarke. “I am comfortable.”

Clarke smiles. “Alright. Well, if it’s okay with you, I’m going to sink down into this bed and stretch out.” The girl shrugs. “Okay, then. You should do the same... if you want to.”

Clarke hopes that by making herself look more relaxed, she will put the girl at ease. The girl does not move, however, and Clarke does not question her any further as she sinks into the bed. She suddenly realises that she is _tired_. She wonders what time it is, but she does not check. She doesn’t want the girl to see her looking at her watch. She doesn’t want the girl to think that she is eager to leave.

“You can get under the blanket if that would make you more comfortable,” the girl says stiffly after a few moments.

“Seriously?”

There is a pause.

“This is the least I can offer you.”

Clarke nods, but doesn’t get under the blanket. She’s comfortable enough as it is, and she cannot help but feel like that would be crossing some sort of boundary. Not that they have set any boundaries. Clarke is already lying in her bed.

When the first nude scene inevitably occurs on the show, Clarke cannot help the grin that breaks out over her face. She moves the cursor on the laptop to check the time.

“That was almost fifteen whole minutes before the first set of boobs showed up. That’s impressive for Game of Thrones.”

The girl’s lips pull up in a miniscule smile at this. Clarke grins back in response.

 

It is about halfway through the episode when the girl apparently gives in to the pain that Clarke is certain she must be feeling in her back from her current position. She gracefully lowers herself down in the bed and stretches slightly. Their arms briefly touch, and Clarke backs away as far as the wall behind her will allow her to, so as to give the girl the space that she may need. Clarke does not want to make her uncomfortable.

The girl looks up and meets Clarke’s gaze for a moment before she casts her eyes down again.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to… I mean, you can… you could… ”

Clarke looks at her curiously for a moment before understanding dawns on her. The girl may not want to say it out loud, but Clarke is fairly certain she can tell what she means.

 

_You can hold me._

 

So Clarke does.

Without saying a word, Clarke shifts a little closer to the girl, stretching her right arm out across the pillow and letting her decide what she wants to do. The girl slowly and hesitantly comes to rest her head on Clarke’s shoulder, angling her body just slightly towards Clarke. Clarke curls her arm around the girl, her hand placed gently on the girl's shoulder, holding her loosely. Clarke thinks she hears her sigh, but she might be mistaken.

Before the episode is over, Clarke is fairly certain that the girl has fallen asleep. Clarke still watches the rest of the episode anyway, because she really does love this show. Once it is over, she shuts the laptop and then looks around, trying to figure out what to do with it. She does not want to move her right arm out from under the sleeping girl beside her, so she uses her left hand to slowly move the laptop to the edge of the bed, out of the way. She is careful not to disturb the girl.

Clarke shifts ever-so-slightly and settles into the bed a bit more comfortably, absentmindedly stroking the girl’s hair as she has done countless times with Octavia. She looks down at the girl, and this time she  _really_ looks at her. The dark circles under her eyes are almost scary. It legitimately looks like she could have been punched in both eyes. Once again, Clarke is struck by the notion that the girl seems somehow familiar, but she cannot quite place her.

Clarke’s gaze eventually moves on from the girl, and she looks around the room for the first time. The walls are empty, which is in sharp contrast to Clarke’s own room, where the walls are covered with pictures of her friends and family. Clarke remember what the girl said in their first chat.  
  


_i have put away all the photos but she is still just everywhere_   
  


Clarke wonders how many photos might once have been plastered on these walls. Photos of the girl and Costia that are now too painful to look at. Clarke wonders if she kept the photos, or if she threw them all away. For some reason, Clarke hopes that she did not throw them all away. The girl would probably regret that decision, somewhere down the line, if she had.

There are a few clothes haphazardly strewn about the room, some flung over the desk chair and some literally just on the floor. The floor seems somewhat dusty as well. Clarke thinks that it has probably been a while since this room was last cleaned. Clarke does not judge, because it has been longer than she cares to admit since she last vacuumed her own room.

The girl twitches, drawing Clarke’s attention once again. She twitches again, and her face twists into a frown. Clarke thinks that she must be having a bad dream. She is willing to bet that this is a regular occurrence. She wraps her left arm around the girl, holding her a little tighter against her side, rubbing her back as if she can maybe take away the pain if only she held her tight enough. Eventually, the twitching subsides and the girl relaxes somewhat. She burrows her face into Clarke a bit further and sighs in her sleep.

Clarke does not get much sleep that night. Every so often, her eyes open of their own accord, and she looks down at the girl to ensure that she is breathing easily. Other times, the girl begins to twitch again, and Clarke wakes up and tightens her arms around her. When she is not twitching and frowning in agitation, the girl actually looks peaceful. Clarke is glad to see this.

 

At around 8.15 in the morning, Clarke hears movement in the house, and she assumes that the girl’s housemate is up and getting ready to go to her exam. The girl does not seem to hear anything, and she continues to sleep. She does not stir until almost 11 am. Clarke wonders whether this is the longest amount of time the girl has been able to sleep in one night, since the accident. She hopes this isn’t the case, but she suspects that it might well be.

In those first few moments of not _quite_ being awake, the girl shifts closer to Clarke, and her eyes remain peacefully closed. She still looks at ease, almost. Then Clarke suddenly feels her go stiff. Her eyes shoot open, and Clarke can see the panic there. Before Clarke can do or say anything to attempt to calm her, she rolls out of the bed so quickly that Clarke is almost surprised that she does not fall. As Clarke sits up, the girl turns around and stands with her back to Clarke. Clarke does not know what is happening, but she feels like it is important to let the girl think right now.

“I am sorry,” the girl finally says, still not turning around. Her spine is rigid, and her voice sounds painfully formal.

“Why are you apologising?”

There is a pause, and Clarke wonders whether coming here was a mistake.

The girl turns around and begins speaking in a mildly hysteric tone that worries Clarke. “Because I shouldn’t have asked you to come here in the middle of the night. I shouldn’t have wasted your time. I should be able to handle my own problems. I shouldn’t be so…”

Her words trail off, but Clarke still hears the rest of it loud and clear.

 

_I shouldn’t be so weak._

 

There is a moment of silence.

Clarke wants to say that she never _asked_ her to come her. That needing help does not make her weak. That, in fact, asking for help is one of the bravest things anyone can do.

She wants to say all of these things, but the anguished look in the girl’s green eyes makes the words die on Clarke’s lips before she ever has the chance to utter them.

“I can leave if you want me to, but I can also stay a while longer. That would be okay." She tries to communicate everything she means in just these few words. She is not sure if it worked, but she does not want to say more to overwhelm the girl. Clarke can see conflict written in her expression.

“You should leave,” the girl says tiredly, averting her eyes. Clarke does her best to not look disappointed, and to remain gentle and soothing.

"If that’s what you want, then okay."

Clarke gets out of the bed silently, and she can feel the girl’s eyes on her as she moves. When she is level with the girl, Clarke cannot stop herself from quietly saying, “Happy birthday.” Clarke thinks she sees something like regret flash briefly in the girl’s eyes, but the girl remains silent and looks away again. Clarke walks on.

When Clarke’s hand is on the door handle, she turns her head slightly and, without looking at the girl, she says, “Good morning.”

And then she leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was disgustingly fluff-y, wasn't it? You can find me on tumblr at thesummerofrain if you'd like to yell at me. Or do it in the comments.


	6. Are You Sleeping Through The Night (Are You Alright)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song Are You Alright by Lucinda Williams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am extremely sorry that it has taken me so very long to update. Those of you who follow me on Tumblr know that I've had major laptop troubles and was computer-less for almost two weeks. It was pretty rough. But I have a new laptop now, and all is right in the world (well, not really. There's still a lot that's wrong with the world. Like racism and sexism and stuff. But you know what I mean). I hope you like the chapter, and it lives up to expectations!
> 
> Shoutout to biwarrior, greatchieftainothepuddinrace, and thecannibalnextdoor on Tumblr for being awesome and super helpful.

It is around 11.15am when Clarke gets back home, tired and groggy. The moment she is through the front door, Octavia and Raven both emerge from Octavia’s room and pounce on her. Octavia looks mad. Raven looks somewhat amused. Clarke is just tired.

“Hey, Ray, what’re you d –“

“ _Where the hell have you been?_ ” Octavia shrieks, cutting Clarke off mid-sentence and rushing forward to pull her into a tight hug.

“What is happening here?"

"You just disappeared without any warning. I woke up and you were _gone_ ," Octavia says, finally releasing Clarke.  "And you weren't with Raven, and we were so worried!"

The relief in her voice quickly turns to anger as she pokes Clarke and adds, "What is the point of a phone if you don't answer calls and texts?"

"I... I'm sorry."

"Geez, you could've been lying dead in a ditch!"

"I'm sorry, O."

Octavia huffs a little, and then throws her arms around Clarke once again. Clarke is confused, but returns the hug. It is better than yelling, after all.

"Why does it smell like cookies?" Clarke asks.

Octavia pulls back from her hug and shrugs. "You know i have a tendency to stress-bake."

"O, you know how i feel about you using the oven without adult supervision."

"Oh, shut up. I'm not that bad."

"Dont worry, C. I was here the whole time," Raven says with a smirk.

"Don't agree with her, woman!" Octavia says, and then she smacks Clarke’s shoulder.

_“Ow.”_

"That's for trying to change the subject. Now, where the hell did you disappear off to?" 

"Do you have a secret lover?" Raven asks with a suggestive wink.

Clarke snorts. "As if."

They both look at Clarke expectantly, waiting for her reply. Clarke knows that they probably won't take this well, but she's certainly not going to lie to them.

“Don’t be mad, okay?”

“Too late for that,” Octavia says, a frown setting into her features. “Just spill it. And it damn well better be good, C.”

“I… went over to someone’s house last night.”

“So you _do_ have a secret lover!” Raven exclaims almost triumphantly.

“Oh shut up, Raven.”

“Then what gives? Why else would you go to someone’s house in the middle of the night?”

Clarke takes a deep breath. “I was with my mystery chatter.”

 _“What?”_ Raven and Octavia both say at the same time.

“What?” Clarke says innocently, edging past them to grab herself a cookie and a glass of milk from the kitchen. Really, it’s more of an excuse to avoid their penetrating stares.

“You went to a stranger’s house in the _middle of the night_?” Octavia exclaims, following Clarke into the kitchen.

“What the hell, Clarke. Who does that?"

“She’s not a stranger, guys,” Clarke says defensively, staring intently at at cookie and not at Octavia or Raven. "These are actually good!"

“Clarke, _seriously_!” Raven scolds. Clarke is surprised to hear this tone coming from Raven. She’s usually more relaxed than Octavia is. “Do you even realize how badly that could have gone?”

“I know. Honestly, _I know_ ,” Clarke says helplessly. “But… she was having an emotional crisis! And she was all _alone_. What was I supposed to do?”

Raven frowns at her for a while before speaking. She shakes her head and says in a defeated tone, “You are never going to change, are you, Griffin?”

“Probably not,” Clarke says with a slight grin.

“Don’t look so damn pleased with yourself, woman,” Octavia snaps. But when she lets out an exasperated sigh, Clarke knows that her anger has mostly dissipated.

“You’re going to have to explain this to Mama G.”

“What?”

“Um…”

“What did you do?” Clarke asks quietly. Now it is Octavia’s turn to explain herself.

“You haven’t checked your phone yet, have you?”

“Octavia, _what did you do?_ ” Clarke asks again, setting her glass down on the counter and reaching for the phone in her pocket apprehensively.

“I may have called her… you know, back when we thought you were lying in a ditch somewhere.”

 _“Octavia!_ " Clarke groans, as Raven stifles a laugh.

“Well, you should’ve told me where you were going! You leave those damn sticky notes on my door for all sorts of random crap, but this is the one time you chose not to? This is not my fault! I was _worried!_ ”

Clarke groans again as she sees the overwhelming number of notifications on her phone.

With Octavia and her mother combined, Clarke has 19 missed calls and 25 texts. All in the space of 3 hours.

Clarke sighs.

"I don't have time for this."

"Well, you better make time," says Raven. "Your mom told us to make sure you call her as soon as you got back, and I sure as hell don’t want to get on her bad side."

"And you seem to be forgetting that none of this would have happened if you had just let let me know where you were going."

"Or, you know... If you had just _not_ gone to an unknown person's house in the middle of the night," Raven adds.

" _Fine_. I'm sorry!"

Raven nods and shares a victorious grin with Octavia.

Clarke retreats to her room and immediately lies down, stretching out and covering almost the entire double bed with her body. She reluctantly calls her mother and waits, still lying sprawled across the bed. The phone is answered after one ring.

 _“Clarke?”_  

Clarke can hear the familiar panic and worry in her mother’s tone. She hates how easily worried she gets. It’s not like Clarke is a little child… she’s almost _twenty years old_. Her mother will probably never see her as anything more than her little girl, though. Most of the time, Clarke does not mind this – and sometimes it’s even nice to be treated like a kid and taken care of by her mom - but the protectiveness and excessive worrying can be exhausting.

“Hey, mom. I don’t know what Octavia told you, but I’m totally fine. There’s nothing to worry about!”

_“Oh, thank God! She said you weren’t in your room in the morning and she sounded so worried… and if Octavia is worried then something is usually very wrong.”_

“Yeah, but nothing’s wrong. I was just… helping out a friend in crisis.”

_“At eight in the morning?”_

Clarke sighs. “Yes." 

_“I see. Which friend is this?”_

Clarke sighs and starts playing with her hair, twirling it around her finger distractedly. She knows her mother is just curious, and not really trying to pry, but she doesn’t have the energy to go into it. “The chatter from PSL that I was telling you about over Easter.”

_“You went to her house? How do you even know where she lives?”_

“She sort of came back to the line and gave me her number… and we’ve been texting… and she needed my help last night so I went over.”

Clarke knows that there must be a disapproving look on her mother’s face right now. Luckily for Clarke, her mother knows her well enough not to press for more information, or share her concerns.

 _“Alright, sweetie... Just... don’t go gallivanting off in the middle of the night too often, okay? Ark is a pretty safe town, but you never know._ ” 

“Don’t worry. If anyone tried anything on me I’d break their nose. I took those self-defense classes, remember?”

Clarke hears her mother laugh. _“Of course I do. Who do you think paid for those?”_

Clarke laughs as well.

 _“And you’re taking care of yourself, right, Clarke?”_  

“Of course,” Clarke replies automatically.

“ _Are you eating decent meals? Pizza doesn’t count, you know.”_

“Yes, mom. I know.”

_“And are you getting enough sleep? You need sleep, especially during exams.”_

Clarke feels somewhat guilty as she answers with a mostly dishonest response. “Of course, mom.”

 _“Okay, good. You get so caught up helping everyone else, you tend to forget to take care of yourself first. I worry.”_  

“I know, but you don’t have to worry, mom. I know how to take care of myself. Plus, I have Octavia and Raven on my case over here as well.”

_“That’s true. At least those two are on my side.”_

Clarke speaks to her mother a while longer, telling her about her anatomy exam and how Octavia and Raven are doing. Abby listens, and in turn shares some details about what’s new at the hospital. Clarke tries to pay attention, but her mind keeps drifting off.

“Anyway, mum, I have to go now. Gotta head back to the library and study some more for Psych tomorrow.”

_“Right, of course.”_

“I’ll talk to you later.”

_“Wait, Clarke?”_

“Yeah?”

_“About this… chatter.”_

Clarke sighs. Of course. “Yeah?"

_“Just… remember that there’s only so much you can do to help her, especially when you have exams to worry about.”_

Clarke has to fight to suppress a groan.

_“I don’t want you to take on all this extra stress. It’s okay to put yourself first.”_

“Yeah, yeah. I know. Gotta go now. Love you.” 

“Love you, too, honey.”

Once she has hung up, Clarke is extremely tempted to just remain in bed and fall asleep, but she knows she cannot afford to do that. She basically has to learn an entire psych course in a little over 24 hours.

 _Still, maybe just 10 minutes…_  

It’s not even five minutes before Raven and Octavia come barging in to her room.

“Is the concept of knocking lost on the two of you?” Clarke groans, not shifting her position from her bed.

“You door was half open,” Octavia says with a shrug. “I totally would’ve knocked if it was closed.”

“Sure.”

Clarke and Octavia make Clarke shove over to the side and then join her on the bed, lying down and making themselves comfortable.

“What was she like?” Octavia asks after a little while.

“My mom? She was fine. Just worried.”

“No, not your mom. Your Mystery Chatter,” Octavia clarifies.

“Oh. She was… I don’t know. She was really sad. And it’s weird, but she seemed familiar somehow. Like I’ve seen her before.”

“You probably have,” Raven says. “Campus isn’t that big. Hell, maybe she’s a health sci.”

“It’s possible. I’m terrible with remembering faces and names, so…”

They fall back into a comfortable silence for a while, resting together on Clarke’s bed after their eventful morning.

“We should go to the library soon,” Octavia says after a few moments. Her eyes remain closed.

“Yup,” Clarke agrees.

None of them make any effort to move.

“Like, sometime _now_ , probably,” Octavia says.

“Yup.”

“Clarke, you have an exam tomorrow.”

“Yup."

“You also promised me we’d watch Game of Thrones this morning,” Raven points out. She also does not open her eyes or adjust her position. And she is supposedly the ‘morning person’ out of the three of them.

“Oh, right… about that…”

Raven finally lifts her head, raising an eyebrow as she glares down at Clarke over Octavia. “You watched it without me, didn’t you?”

“Um… maybe?” Clarke replies weakly.

“God, you’re such a little shit, Clarke. I waited a whole day so that we could watch it together!”

“Sorryyyy! I’ll watch it again with you!”

“Damn right you will.”

“I don’t get why you guys like that dumb show anyway. Ugh.”

Raven and Clarke both turn their heads to look at Octavia in disapproval.

“For the sake of our friendship, I am going to pretend you did not just say that,” Raven says, turning away in mock disgust.

Octavia laughs. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ray-Ray.”

“Don’t call me Ray-Ray. You know I hate that.”

“Of course I know. Why do you think I do it?”

“You are a terrible friend. I don’t know why I put up with you.”

Octavia shifts her body slightly so that she can throw her arms around Raven. “It’s because you love me, Ray-Ray. Don’t try to deny it.”

“Ugh. Unhand me, woman.”

They all start laughing, and it is at least another ten minutes before they finally work up the willpower to get out of bed. They only remain in the house long enough for Clarke to change and brush her teeth.

When the step outside, Clarke is surprised to see Raven’s car parked in the driveway.

"Was that there when I came home?"

"No, it actually went off on a little adventure and just got back now..."

Clarke sighs tiredly. "Raven, can we please not do this?"

"Of course it was here. You're just incredibly oblivious."

Clarke somehow manages to fall asleep during the 5 minute ride to campus. Octavia and Raven decide to wake her up by simultaneously slamming their car doors, and Clarke jumps a little.

"Whoa, okay... okay, I'm up," she says, obviously still half asleep.

"Sure you are."

Clarke does not respond as she makes her way out of the vehicle.

"How are you going to absorb any information when you are barely even awake?"

"I have my ways," Clarke says, not attempting to deny that she is, in fact, barely conscious.

"Red bull is not the answer," Octavia says.

"Never. That stuff is vile."

"What are you on about? Red bull is quality energy juice!" Raven exclaims.

"One conversation with my mother will convince you otherwise. Trust me."

"Well then I'll be sure to avoid that topic next time I see Big Mama G," Raven says with a chuckle.

When they find a table Clarke immediately puts her head down. "Quick power nap. Wake me up in twenty minutes, by any means necessary."

"Done!" Octavia replies a little too readily for Clarke’s liking. Clarke knows the she will regret her statement, but she is too tired to care.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later Clarke jolts awake when she finds her sides being tickled furiously by Octavia. Raven is holding her down so she can't escape.

"Alright, I'm up! Ahh, cut it out!"

It turns out that Monty and Jasper are both nursing hangovers from their post-exam celebrations. Clarke cannot help but feel like the celebration was somewhat premature, given that they still have more exams to go, but she cannot fault them. Jasper only has statistics left, and that’s over a week away. Monty’s next exam isn’t for four days, so he has time as well. Clarke, on the other hand…

It finally hits her that her exam is in a little over 24 hours, and she cracks out the course handbook, resolving to get through the material within no more than two hours. She loads a Tchaikovsky playlist on YouTube, plugs in her headphones, and gets cracking.

Fifty minutes later, her head is resting on the table again, and she has been reading the same sentence at least 5 times. She feels like giving up on life altogether.

“Take a break, Princess,” Raven says. She actually sounds sympathetic, and not entirely sarcastic, so Clarke knows that she must look pretty pathetic right now.

“Yeah.”

Clarke cracks her back and pulls out her phone to send a text.

 **1.25PM**  
 **PSL Person**  
I hope you’re having a nice birthday

She then pulls up Facebook on her laptop and sees that she has a bunch of messages from her cell bio group chat. As usual. Clarke doesn’t bother to read through all of it, but she reads the more recent messages.

_Anya: Two exams down, two to go_

_Monroe: Wait, you had one today??_

_Anya: Yes_

_Roma: On a Sunday? What the hell?_

_Monroe: That should be illegal_

_Anya: They made a special allowance for me, because otherwise I was scheduled for 3 exams on the same day_

_Anya: Now it is only 2_

_Roma: You poor soul_

_Monroe: The exam timetable gods were not kind to you_

_Anya: No, they most certainly were not!_

_Anya: But actually, quite a few people were writing exams with me today_

_Anya: So at least I am not alone in this_

Clarke decides to join in the conversation, even though it ended over an hour ago.

_Clarke: Oh God, that sounds terrible Anya! How did it go??_

_Clarke: Take the rest of the day to just chill and relax and most importantly SLEEP!_

_Monroe: I’m with Clarke on this one!_

_Roma: Anya’s not replying so let’s hope she’s asleep right now :P_

_Clarke: Hopefully!_

_Anya: Sorry to disappoint you all, but I am actually spending the day with my housemate_

_Anya: But don’t worry, I do not intend to do anything remotely productive for at least two days so my brain can rest_

_Roma: lol anya when is your next exam?_

_Anya: I have nothing until stats, which is not for over a week, so that is plenty of time_

_Clarke: Fair enough_

It’s not long before Clarke, Raven, and Octavia start to get hungry. All they have eaten are a few cookies, and it is definitely catching up to them now. The trouble comes when it is time to decide who will make the food run. It requires a lot of effort and willpower to get up and go somewhere, and even more willpower is needed to actually _come back._

“I went yesterday,” Octavia says. “And Clarke still has a lot of shit to do for her exam tomorrow. So…”

Raven narrows her eyes and stands up with a big stretch. “Fine, you lazy shits. I need a walk anyway. What do you two want?”

“Chicken fingers and fries,” Clarke says immediately. She is fairly certain that her body will hate her once exam season is over, but that is to be expected.

Octavia takes longer to give her order. “Hmm… what do they have again at Sky Box?”

“A lot of crap, woman,” Raven says, exasperated. “If you’re going to be your usual indecisive self then you either come with me or go by yourself. I don’t have the patience for this shit today.”

Octavia sighs. “You never have any patience."

Raven does not look impressed, and Octavia quickly backtracks. "Fine, fine. I want a chicken caesar wrap.”

“Alrightie then. Don’t miss me too much, ladies.”

Raven comes back with the food that they ordered, as well as three family-sized packs of chips.

“In case we want snacks,” she says by way of explanation. Clarke and Octavia don’t complain.

For the rest of the day, Clarke actually focuses. Her exam is fast-approaching, and this is enough to cause just the right amount of anxiety needed to actually make her be productive. It does not help, though, that Octavia diverts her attention every so often with comments like, _“Clarke, look at this picture of a hedgehog,”_ or, _“Dude, you have to listen to this song.”_

“Okay, O, I love you, and that song is in fact wonderful, but I need to study now.”

“Right. My bad.”

“So I’m going back to doing practice questions now. Are you done with the random crap?”

“Yes!”

“Are you sure, O?”

“Yeah, yeah. You go do your psych.”

“Okay, good,” Clarke says, turning back to her laptop.

“Okay but wait, Clarke…”

“Are you _serious_?”

Raven starts chuckling, even though she is pretending not to pay attention. Octavia grins innocently and says, “Okay, I know what I just said and I’m sorry but you have to look at this. It’s paintings with rap lyrics written across them. It’s so good.”

Clarke sighs before scooting closer to Octavia’s seat so that she can take a look.

“After this, you’re going to let me study.”

 

They leave the library around 11. Clarke had intended to stay a lot later, but her brain is frying and she figures she can get up early in the morning and look over a few more things. She feels _reasonably_ confident. Enough to pull off a decent mark. Not an excellent one, but still good.

_Is it Med School-good, though?_

Clarke pushes the thought from her mind. She refuses to let it take hold.

Once she gets home, she heads straight for the shower, after which she tiredly gets into bed. She is ready to pass out right away, but she pulls out her phone instead. She finds herself somewhat disappointed to see zero messages waiting for her.

_She usually texts in the middle of the night though, right?_

Clarke shrugs it off and sets an alarm for 6 am. Bright and early, giving her plenty of time to study before her exam. She is asleep within a few minutes.

 

Clarke wakes up to the familiar first bars of La Vie en Rose. She groans as she reaches over to her bedside table to hit the snooze button.

_Five more minutes._

Suddenly, it hits her that she has an exam that day, for which she is not exactly prepared. She sighs and forces herself to get out of her suddenly _very_ comfortable bed.

It does not hit her until she is at her desk, reading through her notes. She realises that she checked her phone earlier and did not receive a text from her - her what? Mystery Chatter seems too… impersonal, now that Clarke has met her and shared whatever it was that they shared together.

_A name would be nice. But Mystery Chatter will just have to do._

Clarke sighs and checks her phone again for good measure. Nothing.

_Focus, Clarke. Exam today. Focus!_

Clarke shrugs it off and goes back to reading about the colourful theories of Mr. Sigmund Freud. She is working her way through some practice questions on defense mechanisms when her phone buzzes with a text.

Clarke rushes to check it immediately, and somewhere in the back of her mind it registers that if she truly wants to focus on studying, she should probably set her phone aside so it can’t distract her.

 **7.22AM**  
 **Octopus Blake**  
What time are we hitting up the   
library today?

Clarke is somewhat disappointed that it wasn’t a text from her Mystery Chatter. She hopes she will get a reply sometime soon. She wonders, not for the first time, if going over there had been the wrong choice, but she can’t quite make herself regret it. She remembers the way the girl was trembling, and she remembers the way she had finally stilled in Clarke’s arms. Her presence had helped, she’s almost certain of it.

Clarke shakes her head to rid herself of these thoughts.

_Exam. Priorities. FOCUS!_

**7.24AM**  
 **Starfish**  
Sooner rather than later

 **7.24AM**  
 **Starfish**  
How does 8 work for you?

Octavia doesn’t reply for a while, and Clarke is fairly certain that she has fallen back asleep, as usual. At 8am, Clarke goes and knocks on her door.

“O, we agreed on 8 AM this morning. Get your butt out of bed.”

All she gets in response is a muffled groan.

“Do you want me to come in there?”

“The door is locked, you bully!” Octavia yells back.

“When has that stopped me before?”

“Alright, I’m up! Geez.”

“Good. I’m making breakfast so you better be out here in 10.”

“Fine, _mom.”_

After a quick breakfast of eggs sunny-side up, Clarke and Octavia make their way over to the library, where Raven is already sitting with her books speak out and her feet up on the table.

“How early do you get here, Ray?” Octavia asks incredulously.

“I live here.”

“God, your life makes me sad,” says Clarke.

“Shut up. I have an exam at noon and I needed to cram, okay? Quit distracting me.”

“She means you, O,” Clarke stage-whispers to Octavia.

“Please, you’re more distracting than I am. It’s just that you actually have stuff to do right now so you’re too busy to be a pain in the ass today.”

“I am not even going to dignify that with a response.”

“Because you know I’m right.”

Clarke obstinately remains silent as she takes the seat beside Raven, and Octavia takes this as a victory.

“Are you two done acting like an old married couple yet?” Raven asks, giving them a look of exaggerated exasperation and annoyance. “Some people actually need to study.”

“Sorry,” they both reply in unison.

Clarke finds a random indie playlist on 8tracks and puts her earphones in so that she can actually focus, tuning out the rest of the world. She is quite proud of how well she is able to concentrate,but it is to be expected now that the exam is so close. This is how she always operates. She does not actually look up from her laptop until Monty arrives a little while later. For once, he is not accompanied by Jasper.

“Hey, Monty, where’s your better half?” Raven asks.

“What? He’s not half. I mean, I’m not his half. We are whole. Wait... what?”

The girls look at Monty in confusion, and he avoids their gazes.

“Um, Monty… why are you being weird?” Raven asks.

“God, Raven, you can’t just ask people why they’re being weird.”

“I appreciate the Mean Girls reference, O, but now is not the time. Seriously, what’s up, dude? You look like someone just threatened to kill your mother or something...”

“That’s a very violent example,” Clarke notes. Raven shrugs.

“Nothing’s up,” Monty says with practiced indifference, taking a seat beside Octavia.

“God, did you two get drunk last night? Is Jasper hung over?”

Monty remains silent.

“It’s not like this is the first time that’s happened. What did you two - ”

“DRUNK MAKE OUT SESSION!” Octavia exclaims suddenly. Several people turn to stare at them.

“Octavia, hush. People are trying to study,” Clarke hisses at her. “Why is that always the first place your mind goes?”

“If I say it enough times, I’m bound to be right _eventually_.”

“Hold up,” Raven says, one eyebrow raised as she takes in the way Monty is determinedly pulling out his books and avoiding eye contact. “Monty, _no_! You didn’t?”

“No way!” Clarke gasps.

“Hah! See? I was right!” Octavia says victoriously.

“Octavia, _library,_ ” Clarke reminds her.

Monty sighs. “I didn’t want to bring it up but… Well, things got weird Saturday night.”

“Screw studying. Spill everything.”

“I don’t know. We got drunk at the Sky Box again last night and… it just sort of happened? Now Jas is being weird. Like, _really_ weird. I’m not even into him like that. And he freaking _knows_ it. We’ve talked about it before. But… yeah. He won’t be joining us at the library any time soon.”

“Jeez,” says Octavia. “This is what happens when we leave you two unsupervised.”

“Whatever. I mean, Jasper will get over it... right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Clarke says comfortingly. “I’ll have a word with him. Tell him to quit being such a baby.”

Monty grins. “Yeah, you do that. The idiot won’t even talk to me. But, anyway... Exam tomorrow. Gotta study.”

Clarke smiles and shakes her head in wonder as Monty turns back to his books. Nobody handles awkward situations quite like Monty Green.

Raven goes back to her books, and Clarke goes back to practice questions. Octavia is being good, for once, because even she knows better than to be a distractions so close to an exam. Monty is as focused as ever.

Before Clarke is even aware that so much time has passed, Raven gets up to head off to her Thermodynamics exam. Clarke starts tapping her foot nervously, knowing that her own exam is coming ever closer. When 1.30pm rolls around, she feels somewhat ready. She knows Freud and Jung, and she’s okay with Maslow’s theories. Rogers is basically everything she already learnt at PSL training, so that’s fine. She can wing the rest. She’s just finished off the required readings, but whether or not she actually remembers what she read remains to be seen. It will have to do.

She leaves her bags at the library with Octavia and Monty, thanks them for their wishes of good luck, and heads to her exam feeling relaxed. Regardless of how prepared she feels, she always remains relaxed. That is imperative.

 

The exam goes fairly well. Better than anatomy, at the very least. As well as Clarke could have reasonably expected it to go, given the amount of effort she put into studying for it. She did well in the midterms, so that should make up for the exam anyway, leaving her with a good overall grade.

_Is it Med School-good, though?_

This type of thought has been entering Clarke’s mind with increasing frequency lately. She forces herself not to think about this kind of thing. She is not the type of person whose sole aim is to get into Medical School. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course, but it is just not who she is. She’s not even sure that’s what she wants for herself. But she still has time to figure it out.

It is with these confusing thoughts rumbling around in her mind that Clarke arrives back at the library and drops down in the vacant seat beside Raven.

“That bad?” Raven asks, and it almost sounds sympathetic.

“What? No, it was alright. I didn’t fail, at least.”

“Well, this is good new,” Raven replies with a smirk.

“So why the long face, Starfish?” Octavia asks.

“Just thinking about stuff,” Clarke says, brushing it off with a shrug. “How was your exam, Ray?”

“Aced that shit,” Raven says with a cocky grin.

“Of course you did,” Clarke says, grinning back. “You’re the smartest mechanical engineer there ever was.”

“Damn right, I am!”

“When’s your next exam?”

“Day after tomorrow,” Raven says, her smile quickly morphing into a grimace. “Why else would I be back at the library?”

“For the pleasure of our company, of course,” Octavia interjects.

Monty lets out an audible sigh. “Why are you three always so… weird?”

“This is what true love looks like, Monty. I’ll explain it to you when you grow up,” says Raven

Monty rolls his eyes. “You girls are the worst.”

“Are we making you feel left out, buddy?”

“He just misses Jasper,” Octavia says, before Monty has a chance to reply.

“You’re such a little shit, Octavia,” Clarke says with a laugh as Monty chucks an eraser at Octavia’s head. Octavia moves out of the way and it hits the guys sitting beside her, studying alone wearing giant headphones. Monty’s eyes widen as the others try to suppress their laughter. The guy removes his headphones and looks over at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Um… sorry, dude. That was meant for my friend here,” Monty says sheepishly.

The guy laughs, leaning back in his seat. “You need to work on your aim, man. She’s not even two feet away and you missed.”

The girls start laughing and Monty rolls his eyes. “She moved… not my fault.”

“Yeah, I have really quick reflexes. It’s not Monty’s fault he can’t keep up,” Octavia says with a grin. “I’m Octavia, by the way, and you’re cute.”

The others glare at Octavia, but she ignores them.

“I’m flattered, Octavia,” he says with a wink. “But… how do I put this delicately? I... play for a different team.”

“Oh. _Oh!_ ” Octavia says, eyes lighting up once she understands. The guy seems confused by her sudden enthusiasm. “This is my friend Monty. He plays for the same teams as you do!”

“Octavia!” Clarke gasps, but she cannot help the light laugh that finds its way to her lips. Monty glares at Octavia before turning to their new friend. “Hi, I’m sorry. Octavia has this problem where she doesn’t know how to keep her mouth shut.”

“Yeah, we’re trying to find a cure,” Raven adds. “It doesn’t look hopeful.”

The guy laughs again. “I see... That’s quite tragic. I’m Nathan, but everyone calls me Miller.”

“Nathan and Miller do sound alike,” Raven says sarcastically.

“Miller is my last name.”

“Ah, well that makes more sense then. Hello, Miller. Since Octavia has rudely neglected to introduce us, I’ll do it. I’m Raven, and this is Clarke.”

“Hey,” Clarke offers with a smile.

“Look at us, being all social at the library and making new friends,” Octavia says. “This is exciting! Isn’t it exciting, guys?”

“Yeah, who needs a night out when you can party it up at the library?” Clarke says. They all laugh.

The others all revert to studying, the only difference being that now Miller has joined their little study group. Clarke doesn’t really feel like studying, though. Her next exam isn’t for another ten days, so there is no logical reason for her to start studying yet. She _could_ try to prep for the interview that she has in two days’ time, but she does not quite feel like doing that either.

She pulls out her phone and opens her texts, clicking on her conversation with Mystery Chatter. It has been a whole day since Clarke was kicked out of her room. There have been no texts since. Clarke finds that she is worried, and she can’t help but picture the look on her Chatter’s entire body was wracked with violent sobs when she held her. Clarke hopes that she is okay, but she doesn’t quite know what to say or do. She doesn’t want to send a bunch of texts, only to receive no reply. She sighs and sets her phone aside, only to pick it up again a few moments later. She begins to type out a text and then just deletes it all, dropping her phone onto the table and burying her face in her hands.

_Suck it up, Clarke._

**5.14PM**  
 **Unknown Number**  
Hey, how are you doing?.

 **5.14PM**  
 **Unknown Number**  
I haven’t heard from you in a  
while and I guess I just wanted  
to check in

Clarke realizes that one day isn’t necessarily _a while_ , but whatever. It feels like a long time.

After an hour of attempting to look at her statistics notes (while really scrolling through Facebook and Tumblr), Clarke decides that there is really no point in hanging around the library any longer. When she begins packing up her things, Raven looks up.

“Ditching us already?” Raven says.

“I’ve got ten days until Stats. As much as I love the library, and your company, I think I just need to go home and relax for a bit. Let my brain recharge, you know?”

“Fair,” Raven concedes.

“Hold on, I’ll come with,” Octavia says.

“You’re leaving me, too?”

“Yes, I can only put up with you if Clarke is around,” Octavia jokes.

“Ouch. You sure know how to wound a girl.”

“I’m a heartbreaker, what can I say,” Octavia says with a wink, packing up her stuff as well. Clarke catches Miller throw a somewhat confused look at Monty, and Monty responds with a knowing smirk.

On the walk home, Clarke and Octavia pass Polis street, and Clarke debates the propriety of just turning up at her Mystery Chatter’s front door unannounced. It’s probably not an okay thing to do. She sighs and walks on.

“Hey, let’s watch a movie,” Octavia says, pulling Clarke out of her thoughts.

“Don’t you have to study?”

“Nah, I’ve studied enough for today. Plus, I have all of tomorrow to study for Global Pol. I’m feeling a movie tonight.”

“Sure, what were you thinking?”

“I don’t know… something funny.”

“Oh, I saw a funny thing on Tumblr about We’re The Millers earlier. We could watch that?”

“Yes!” Octavia exclaims enthusiastically. “I love that movie.”

 

Twenty minutes later, Clarke and Octavia and sprawled on the giant beanbag, covered in blankets, bowl of popcorn in Clarke’s lap, and Octavia’s laptop loading the movie.

On the screen, Jason Sudeikis is being puked on by a baby when Clarke’s phone buzzes with an incoming text. Clarke reaches for it so quickly that she almost spills the popcorn.

“Easy, there,” Octavia says. “That’s precious cargo you have on your lap. We don’t waste good popcorn in this household.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and passes the bowl to Octavia so that she can pull out her phone without risking a spill. It buzzes two more times by the time she finds it from where it is hidden in the folds of the blanket. When Clarke sees that the texts are from Raven, she finds herself somewhat disappointed.

**6.49PM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Monty and Miller are getting  
all cute together

 **6.49PM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
It’s gross, but not nearly as   
gross as you and Octavia   
when I first met you guys

 **6.50PM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
I’ve decided I’m going to call   
them “Milly”

“Looks like your plan to get Monty and Miller together might actually have worked,” Clarke informs Octavia.

“No way! Was that Raven? What did she say?” Octavia reaches over and grabs Clarke’s phone before she can even begin to answer. A triumphant grin spreads across her face as she reads the texts. “YES!”

“What does she mean she’s going to call them Milly?” Clarke asks, snatching her phone back from Octavia.

“That’s their couple name, duh. You know, like Brangelina.”

“Oh, right. Isn’t she getting a little ahead of herself? They literally just m -”

“Milly isn’t right, though,” Octavia says, interrupting Clarke. “It’s weird. They should be called… umm... Oh! I know!”

She steals Clarke’s phone back and begins typing something to Raven. Clarke just lets it happen, because there is no point fighting with Octavia over this.

**6.51PM**  
 **Starfish**  
Milly is dumb. They should   
be called Minty

 **6.51PM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Shut up, Octavia

“How did she know it was me?” Octavia says, a frown on her face. Clarke leans over and reads the conversation.

“Because she knows I would never give a shit about weird couple names.”

“Fair point. But, come on, Minty is better than Milly, right?”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Let me reiterate… I don’t give a shit about weird couple names. They haven’t even known each other for 2 hours yet, and you guys are already - “

“I’m going to tell Raven you think Minty is better.”

Clarke sighs. “Why do I even bother?”

**6.53PM**  
 **Starfish**  
Clarke thinks Minty is better

 **6.53PM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
She definitely did not say that

 **6.53PM**  
 **Starfish**  
Yes she did

“Are you quite finished?” Clarke asks.

“No, this is important.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow and holds out her hand for her phone. Octavia sighs and gives it back reluctantly.

“I’m not sure how I feel about Jennifer Aniston as a stripper,” Clarke says casually when Jennifer Aniston appears on the screen, performing on stage.

“Excuse me? Jennifer Aniston is a gorgeous woman, and if you’re implying otherwise then I’m not sure if we can continue to be friends…”

“No, no, she’s beautiful! I’m not disagreeing with that. But… I don’t know. I’m not feeling her as a stripper. She hasn’t got the boobs for it.”

Octavia frowns. “I suppose you _may_ have a point.”

 

_“I even got a tattoo of it, do you want to see?”_

_“Boner Garage…”_

 

They both burst out laughing.

“Oh my God, _Boner Garage!_ ” Octavia cries, laughing so hard that her side actually hurts.

“God, O... I’m changing your name in my phone to Boner Garage.”

Octavia starts to laugh even harder. “DO IT!”

About halfway through the movie, Clarke’s stomach begins to grumble. Loudly.

“Was that… your _stomach?_ ” Octavia asks incredulously.

“I think it was.”

“Have you eaten anything all day?”

“Well, I had breakfast…”

“That was at 8am. Have you eaten anything in the 12 hours since then?”

“Umm… I had popcorn?”

 _“Clarke!”_ Octavia scolds her, already pausing the movie and getting up from her seat. Clarke sighs, too lazy to move. “Get up, we’re going to the kitchen to get food.”

Clarke makes an indistinguishable noise of complaint, and Octavia rolls her eyes. “Fine, be that way. I’ll be back with food in a bit.”

“Try not to burn the house down,” Clarke calls out to her as she leaves the living room.

“I’ll do my best.”

She comes back not ten minutes later with two turkey sandwiches, both for Clarke.

“You take such good care of me,” Clarke says fondly, accepting the plate of food with a grateful smile.

“It’s shit like this that makes people think we’re an old married couple,” Octavia points out, settling back into the bean bag until she is comfortable again.

“True.”

Once the movie is over, Octavia goes for a shower, and Clarke waits in her room, dangerously close to falling asleep even though it is barely even ten. Waking up at 6 really makes the day feel like it is going on forever. Clarke gets up the moment she hears the bathroom door creak open. When she catches Octavia making a towel run to her room, they exchange quick ‘goodnights’, and Clarke agrees to join her at the library the next day, despite having little to no intention of studying. She figures she can prep for her interview, and maybe get a head start on statistics if she really feels like it.

Lying in bed with the lights off, Clarke finds herself on her phone again, as if looking at it long enough will make a text magically appear. After a few moments of staring at it uselessly, Clarke decides to send another text, but then changes her mind immediately.

_If she wanted to talk, she would text me back, right? I shouldn’t bother her._

Sighing, Clarke makes sure she has an alarm set for 8AM and puts the phone on her bedside table. She rolls over, making herself more comfortable in bed.

When she wakes up in the middle of the night, it’s not because of a text, unfortunately. No, it’s because mother nature has decided that now is a good time to inform her that she is not, in fact, pregnant. Clarke groans. She is tempted to just stay in bed and wonders what it might feel like wake up in a pool of her own blood. She decides that she doesn’t want to find out and goes to the bathroom to put in a tampon.

When she gets back into bed, she instinctively reaches for her phone.

_Maybe Octavia is right, and I do have a phone addiction…_

Her phone tells her that it is 3.44AM.

_I wonder if she’s getting enough sleep._

Clarke hesitates for just a moment before sending a text.

**3.44AM**  
 **Unknown Number**  
Good morning

She looks at her phone for a while to see if those three dots will appear, but they don’t. She goes back to bed not expecting any kind of reply. She is not wrong.

The next morning, Octavia and Clarke are the first ones to get to the library. The advantage of getting there this early is that they are always able to claim an entire table for themselves before the library starts to get crowded. Clarke sits beside Octavia and vaguely attempts to look through her statistics notes for the first time.

By the time Raven arrives, Clarke has already given up. Raven takes a seat opposite Clarke and says, “What up, nerds?” as a greeting.

“I’m studying, and Clarke is procrastinating,” Octavia answers.

“I have ages before stats and anthro, alright?”

“Whatever,” Raven says. “Are Minty and Jasper joining us?”

Octavia nearly squeals in excitement. “You called them Minty! I’m so happy!”

Raven rolls her eyes. “It works better than Milly.”

“Say I was right.”

“I will do no such thing.”

“Say it.”

“No. Stop bothering me and study.”

“Just say it and then I’ll stop.”

“I refuse.”

“I’m not sure if they’re coming,” Clarke interrupts, effectively ending the little argument. “Text Monty.”

Octavia huffs in frustration, but knows it’s a lost cause. Raven smirks to herself in satisfaction.

Clarke switches back to Facebook when she hears a little notification noise from her chat. It’s from her cell bio group, and she notes with some surprise that they actually went a whole day without saying anything on the chat. This is pretty much a first.

 

**8.43AM**

**Facebook Chat**

_Anya: Clarke, will you and your friends be studying at Mecha today?_

_Clarke: All day every day_

_Clarke: I told you, we live here!_

_Anya: I did not expect you to be awake this early_

_Clarke: It’s a struggle, but I manage_

_Anya: Do you have space for two?_

_Anya: I was thinking of joining you, and I am bringing a friend_

_Clarke: For real this time? ;P_

_Anya: Yes, for real this time_

_Clarke: Yeah, we have space_

_Anya: We will be there in about an hour_

_Clarke: Cool, just text me whenever you get here_

**  
**  


Not ten minutes later, Clarke gets a text from Jasper.

**8.51AM**  
 **Jazzy Jordan**  
Anya’s coming to the library?

 **8.51AM**  
 **Griffster**  
Yes

 **8.51AM**  
 **Jazzy Jordan**  
And she’s bringing her   
housemate?

 **8.51AM**  
 **Griffster**  
It would appear so.

 **8.53AM**  
 **Jazzy Jordan**  
Okay, I’m coming to the   
library today

 **8.53AM**  
 **Griffster**  
Of course you are.

Jasper’s little crush on Anya is not even a little bit subtle.

True to his word, Jasper arrives at the library with Monty thirty minutes later.

“Have you finally decided not to be weird anymore?” Raven asks bluntly.

“What do you - Aw, man, you _told_ them?” Jasper says, punching Monty in the shoulder. Monty just shrugs.

“Okay, two can play at this game,” Jasper says threateningly. “Monty came home last night _gushing_ about some dude named Miller -”

_“Dude!”_

Jasper continues, unphased. “I don’t know who he is, but apparently he’s funny and he likes basketball and - _ow, ow, ow,_ okay, I’m done! Let go of my arm, jeez!” Jasper squirms in pain until Monty releases him. “Anyway, yeah… After half an hour of that, I figured everything was cool between us.”

Monty informs them that Miller will also be joining them later (much to Octavia’s delight). Including Anya and her friend, there will be eight of them, so they spread out and occupy two tables. Octavia carefully orchestrates the seating arrangements so that there is a space beside Monty for Miller to sit, when he gets there. Clarke and Monty and both somewhat mortified by her eagerness to play matchmaker. Jasper finds it funny and actually helps, sitting on the opposite side of the table instead of beside Monty as usual.

When it’s all sorted, Monty is seated with an empty seat to his left, with Clark on his other side, and Raven beside her. Octavia is seated opposite Monty, and Jasper opposite where Miller will be sitting. There are two open seats beside Octavia for Anya and her friend, because they all assumed they would want to sit together. Jasper wanted to sit beside Anya or her friend, but Clarke told him to stop being a creep and refused to let it happen. She doesn’t want to scare off their potential new friend or piss Anya off, and if that little stunt with Murphy is anything to go by, Jasper simply cannot be trusted.

As promised, when Anya arrives, she is not alone. Clarke is surprised when she sees who is accompanying her. Jasper whirls around in his seat when he sees Clarke look up.

“Well, you must be Anya’s housemate, Lexa,” Jasper says sarcastically to the 6” tall, muscular man who is most likely _not_ Lexa.

Clarke groans. “Shut up, Jas.”

Anya rolls her eyes at Jasper. “I never said I was bringing my housemate. Ijust said I was bringing a _friend_. This is my friend, Lincoln. Lexa… could not make it.”

Clarke notices Anya’s hesitation once again, and she wonders what this Lexa’s deal is, but she does not bring it up. As planned, Anya and Lincoln take the two empty seats beside Octavia (leaving the seat beside Monty available for Miller, of course).

They go through a round of introductions for Lincoln’s benefit, and he smiles politely. “Nice to meet you all.”

Octavia then proceeds to bombard him with typical first-meeting questions, all of which he answers good-naturedly. Clarke is forced to interrupt after the questions start to become ridiculous.

“Octavia, remember that exam you have tomorrow? Should you maybe study for that?”

“Oh, shit. Right.”

“I can tell you about my opinion on clowns later,” Lincoln says to Octavia with a smile. Clarke’s laptop beeps with an incoming notification on iMessage.

 **10.21AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
First Minty and now these two

 **10.21AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Why does this keep happening?

Clarke struggles to contain her laugh, and she fails.

“What’s funny?” Anya asks curiously from across the table.

“Sorry, cheekbones,” Raven says, glancing at Lincoln and Octavia before giving Anya a wink. “This is strictly between me and Clarke.”

Anya blinks. “Did you just refer to me as… cheekbones?”

“Maybe I did.”

Clarke starts to laugh again at the look on Anya’s face.

**10.21AM**  
 **Starfish**  
Raven, play nice  
  
 **10.21AM**  
 **Starfish**  
She’s my friend

 **10.22AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
I’m always nice

 **10.23AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
But come on, she has the highest   
cheekbones I’ve ever seen

 **10.23AM**  
**Ray-Ray Reyes**  
You could cut glass with those  
cheekbones

 **10.23AM**  
**Starfish**  
What does that even mean?

 **10.23AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
I don't know, it just slipped  
out

“Are you two chatting when you’re sitting right beside each other?” Anya inquires with a raised eyebrow.

“No,” Clarke says immediately, just as Raven replies with a “Yes.”

“They do that sometimes,” Octavia says with a light laugh.

“What, and you don’t?” Clarke says.

Anya smiles at the three of them and shakes her head.

Miller arrives around noon, and then the group is complete. Clarke has never studied at the library with so many people before, but it’s quite fun. Not that she’s getting much studying done, but still. She’s mostly observing her friends and scrolling aimlessly through Facebook, Tumblr, Buzzfeed, and YouTube. Clarke isn’t entirely aware that she is subconsciously singing along to her music until Raven pokes her in the side. Hard.

“Ow! What the hell, Ray?” Clarke says, pulling out one earphone.

“You know I love you, princess, but if you sing La Vie En Rose _one more time_ , so help me I will -”

“Oh, am I doing that again?”

“Yes.”

“I didn’t even realise.”

“It needs to stop.”

“You’re just a grumpy little shit. Monty doesn’t mind. Do you, Monty?”

Raven levels Monty with a threatening glare, and Monty looks a bit confused. “I’m remaining neutral on this. I have my earphones, so I’m not bothered by it.”

Raven looks at him as though she has been betrayed. “You’re _useless_.” Monty shrugs and Miller laughs at this, leaning forward to whisper something in Monty’s ear. Monty laughs back, and Raven sighs in disappointment.

“Okay, you see those empty seats at the next table over?” Raven tries again, pointing to the seats in question.

“Yeah…”

“They were occupied ten minutes ago. But then the girls sitting there gave you the dirtiest look I have ever seen anyone give anyone, and they walked away. You are literally driving people away.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, yeah? Ask Cheekbones,” Raven says immediately, turning to Anya for support. “Go on, tell her.”

Anya hesitates and then says reluctantly, “There were girls sitting there not long ago, yes.”

“And…” Raven prompts her. “Come on, don’t be shy now. Clarke needs to hear this.”

Anya sighs. “Fine. They gave you a look and then relocated to seats at the other end of the room.”

“Geez… I’m that bad?”

“No, you have a lovely voice, Clarke,” Lincoln interjects. Clarke smiles at him gratefully.

“Yeah, you’re great, C,” Octavia says. “But maybe something _other_ than La Vie En Rose for the hundredth time? It’s bad enough you sing it around the house and you use it as your alarm. You’ve made me hate this song.”

“Okay, but if you understood the meaning, you’d understand. It’s such a beautiful -”

“Clarke, you’ve told us what it means a million times. We get it. It’s beautiful. Now _stop_ ,” Raven says with finality.

Clarke sighs. “You guys are no fun.”

“But you love us,” Raven says teasingly, throwing her arm around Clarke.

“Sometimes I wonder. And Anya… I thought you were supposed to be on my side.”

“It’s not my fault your voice drove those girls away,” Anya says. Raven smirks in approval.

Raven keeps messaging Clarke to talk about Minty and, as she has taken to calling them, _Linctavia_. Clarke only rolls her eyes.

**12.33PM**  
 **Starfish**  
They’ve known each other for  
all of ten minutes

 **12.33PM**  
 **Starfish**  
You’ve got to stop doing this

 **12.34PM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
You can’t tell me you don’t see it

 **12/34PM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
He’s helping her study for poli sci

 **12.34PM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Have you ever tried to help O study  
for poli sci?

 **12.34PM**  
 **Starfish**  
Of course I have

 **12.34PM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Then you know how ridiculously   
boring it is

 **12.34PM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
He’s been through about 30   
flashcards with her already

 **12.35PM**  
 **Starfish**  
So what?

 **12.35PM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Fine, watch this

Clarke’s eyes widen in worry, but before she can do anything, Raven is already talking.

“O, it’s your turn to do the lunch run today,” Raven says.

“Oh, it is?” Octavia says, looking up distractedly.

“Yup,” Raven confirms.

“Sure,” Octavia says with a shrug, agreeing without complaint for once.

“I’ll go with you,” Lincoln offers, much to Raven’s satisfaction. She throws Clarke an _I told you so_ look.

“Awesome,” Octavia says with a smile.

“Chicken fingers and fries for me,” Clarke says.

“Grilled chicken wrap with avocado mayo.”

“I’ll have a chicken burger, no tomatoes.”

“Wait…”

“Chicken fettuccini alfredo.”

“Grilled chicken wrap for me as well. No lettuce. Extra honey mustard sauce.”

“Guys… I can’t remember this,” Octavia complains. “Someone write it all down, please.”

Lincoln writes it all out as the others all pass money to Octavia. Except for Clarke and Raven, because at this point they don’t even know who owes how much to whom. When it comes to food and other little stuff, they figure it all balances out, so it doesn’t really matter.

Once Lincoln and Octavia are safely out of earshot, Raven turns to Clarke. “I told you. It’s been five minutes and they’re already being gross.”

Anya raises her eyebrows from across the table. “Is this what the two of you have been messaging about?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

Anya shakes her head.

“It’s Raven’s fault. I tried to remind her that she has an exam tomorrow, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“Wow, did you seriously just tell on me to mommy?”

“So I am _mommy_ in this scenario?” Anya says evenly, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes. Clarke has your number saved in her phone as Mother Hen. I figured you knew this already,” Raven says, a little uncertain now.

“Yes, but I do not recall giving you permission to call me that,” Anya challenges. All hints of humour have left her voice, and she actually sounds somewhat intimidating. It reminds Clarke of when she first met Anya, back at the beginning of term. Clarke knows Anya well enough by now to know that she is merely teasing Raven.

Raven blinks. “Oh. Uh… sorry? I didn’t mean to -”

Clarke bursts out laughing, interrupting Raven mid-sentence. Anya cracks a small smirk. Raven catches on quickly and scowls at both of them.

“That wasn’t funny.”

“I think Clarke would beg to differ,” Anya says in a matter-of-fact tone, and Clarke laughs even harder at this.

“I hate both of you.”

“You love me,” Clarke says.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I don’t also hate you.”

“And you do not even know me,” Anya adds.

“No,” Raven agrees. “But I think I’m starting to get a picture here.”

“Is that so?”

Raven just smirks and turns back to her notes. Clarke is glad that Anya is able to bite back to Raven’s snark. Maybe now that she has a new target, Raven will leave Clarke in peace. Clarke doesn’t really have high hopes for that, though.

Octavia and Lincoln return a few minutes later with the food. There is quite a lot of it, and nobody is complaining.

Clarke goes back to reading up for her interview the next day. She does not remain focused for long, though, as she pulls out her phone again. No texts. She sets her phone down and idly browses through 8tracks, looking for a playlist to keep her entertained. Her friends have made it clear that Edith Piaf is off the table, so she looks for a Disney one instead.

Clarke tries not to be too distracting. She figures she might as well be productive, so she goes through some statistics slides and even reads a page or two of her anthro readings. She plays with her phone and stares at it aimlessly more often than she cares to admit.

 

Clarke and Octavia get up to head home at 10.30. It’s quite sad how their entire day is spent at the library now, but it is exam season so this is to be expected. Clarke stretches and cracks her back. The only time she stood up all day was when she had to go to the washroom, and she’s certain that can’t be healthy for her. They say their goodbyes, Octavia lingering to chat with Lincoln for longer than Clarke cares to wait. Clarke suspects that Raven might just stay at the library all night until her 9AM exam, and Monty will most likely be keeping her company, as he also has one at 10.

On the way home, Octavia is talking animatedly, and Clarke suspects that it is about Lincoln, but she is not paying too much attention. Once again, they pass Polis street, and Clarke finds herself staring down the road wistfully.

_No, Clarke. This is not okay. She’s probably at work right now, anyway._

“Okay, what gives?” Octavia says, grabbing Clarke’s arm and bringing them both to a halt.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re being weird.”

“Am not.”

“Don’t fight me on this. I know you, Clarke. You’re staring at the ground, and you haven’t commented on the brightness of the stars, even though they’re really clear tonight. And you’re actually walking faster than I am. So I’m going to ask one more time... What’s wrong?”

Clarke sighs. Octavia continues to look at her expectantly, her face determined. She won’t budge on this.

“Fine,” Clarke says in defeat. Octavia grins. “It’s just… I haven’t heard from her recently.”

“From who? Mystery Girl?”

Clarke nods, and she starts to walk again, more slowly this time. Octavia doesn’t complain about the slow pace, and doesn’t rush ahead.

“How long has it been?” Octavia asks.

“Since I went over to her place the other day,” Clarke replies quietly.

“Right. So that’s been, what? two days?”

“Yeah, I know it’s not that long, O. I know that. But -”

“But you’re worried,” Octavia finishes for her. Clarke just nods again, dragging her feet a bit as she walks. “Of course you’re worried. You’re you.”

“What does that mean?”

“You worry about everyone and everything.”

Clarke does not disagree.

“So… have you texted her?”

“Yeah. No reply.”

“Okay. Have you tried calling?”

Clarke stares at her. “No, of course not!”

“Well, why not?”

“She doesn’t want to talk to me. She won’t answer.”

“You can’t know that, C.”

“Trust me, I know.”

Octavia sighs, but remains silent, waiting for Clarke to continue and let out more of what she is feeling. Clarke knows that Octavia can be extremely patient when it comes to this kind of thing.

“I think… I mean, I just want to be able to  _help_ her, but… I don’t know... Maybe I went too far by going over to her house,” Clarke admits, hesitant and quiet, staring at the ground and playing with the straps on her bag.

“Hold on a hot second,” Octavia says, rounding on Clarke, grabbing her by the shoulders and stopping them again in the middle of the road. “I’m only going to say this once, Clarke, so listen carefully. Look at me. Are you listening?”

Clarke blinks in surprise, but nods.

“Okay, good. Let me be clear - going over to that girl’s house is the single stupidest thing you have ever done. I mean, it was the middle of the nights, and you still don’t even know her name and yet you - okay, you get the point. It was dumb and reckless. _But_... I don’t think it was the wrong thing to do in that situation.”

Clarke looks at Octavia in disbelief. “Really?”

“Mystery Girl needed you,” Octavia says, as if it is the simplest thing in the world. “I don’t know what exactly was up, but that much is clear. And you’re too good a person to ignore something like that. You helped her, yeah?”

“I… I think so?”

“Okay, so that’s what matters. You did good.”

Octavia nods her head, as though that’s all that needs to be said, and then she continues to walk on. They remain silent for a while as Clarke lets the words wash over her and she tries to accept them as true.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you compliment me like that before,” Clarke says with a small smile, nudging Octavia gently with her shoulder as they walk side by side. “I think I might die of shock.”

Octavia chuckles and rolls her eyes. “Don’t get used to it, nerd.”

“I won’t.”

“And you can’t tell anyone I said nice things to you. Especially not Raven.”

“She wouldn’t even believe me if I did.”

“You’re probably right about that,” Octavia agrees.

“Thanks, O,” Clarke says sincerely, not looking directly at Octavia.

Octavia doesn’t say anything, merely nods. Clarke feels a rush of affection for her best friend, and she wonders how she was lucky enough to find her.

“Hey, you know what? We haven’t properly hung out in a while, just the two of us.”

“What do you mean?” Octavia says, confused. “We spend like every waking moment together. If anything, we spend too much time just the two of us. We’ve practically turned into one person. Everyone says so.”

“No,” Clarke says with a laugh. “Okay, well, that’s true, but I mean like actually going out. Let’s do lunch tomorrow. After your exam and my interview.”

Octavia smiles. “Done. I get to pick where we eat, though.”

“Deal.”

“How do you feel about your exam tomorrow?” Clarke asks.

Octavia shrugs. “I think I’ll be okay. I’ll probably wake up early tomorrow and do some more last minute stuff just at home.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll make you breakfast before the exam,” Clarke promises.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Octavia replies, just as the turn onto their street.

Another night passes without any text. Clarke isn’t surprised. When she wakes up in the morning, she _thinks_ she might have dreamt of her chatter, but she isn’t entirely sure. Either way, the sounds of her quiet sobs still haunt Clarke. Clarke is worried. She hopes her chatter is getting enough sleep at night. She doesn’t let herself dwell on it, though. She rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom. She’s running low on tampons, and she makes a mental note to go out and buy more… at some point. Preferably soon.

She knocks on Octavia’s door and finds her friend at her desk, studying diligently.

“Don’t mean to disturb you, but what are you feeling for breakfast?” Clarke asks.

“Scrambled eggs, please.”

“On it.”

Clarke cooks breakfast for the both of them and then heads back to Octavia’s room. She runs through a few flashcards with Octavia as they eat, and it seems like Octavia knows her stuff.

At 8.15, Octavia heads off to her exam, and Clarke goes about washing the dishes. She then gets ready for her interview, taking a shower and even putting in the effort to blow dry her hair. She then stands in her towel in front of her closet, trying to decide what to wear. She knows without a doubt that she will be wearing her blazer and her one pair of formal pants. She doesn’t have a lot of options in that department. All she has to do is select a top, and it does not take her very long.

She admires herself in her mirror for a minute once she is dressed. She’s not really big on looking at her reflection, because she’s never been too concerned with her appearance, but she has to admit that she loves wearing this blazer. It's her one nice piece of clothing. She likes dressing up all professionally.

_Maybe it’s time to go with a more mature wardrobe?_

Clarke arrives painfully early, as usual. Early is always better than late, after all. It actually works in her favour, because she gets called in for her interview a whole 15 minutes early. Clarke speaks carefully and calmly, making sure not to stumble over too many words, and keeping her “um”s to a minimum. It goes better than expected, and Clarke walks out feeling reasonably confident that she got the position.

She makes her way over to University Hall, where Octavia has her exam. She’s early, so Octavia will probably still be writing. She goes to the second floor windows, which look down over the exam hall. She spots Octavia easily enough, sitting in the front row as expected, the most convenient spot for an easy escape, as she puts it. Clarke’s eyes roam around the rest of the hall, and she wonders if maybe another one of her friends might be writing an exam in here today. She doesn’t know what other exams are going on in this room right now, but she looks anyway. She enjoys people-watching. Everyone has their own nervous ticks during exams. Some tap their feet. Others drum their fingers against the table. Some chew on their pens.

Clarke’s eyes are roaming across the room when they finally fall on a face that she recognises. Clarke stiffens at the sight of her mystery chatter sitting only three seats behind Octavia. Clarke stares at her intently, not believing her eyes.

Her brow is furrowed in concentration. She has bags under her eyes. Clarke notices the tattoo on her arm and suddenly it clicks into place in her mind.

_She’s the girl with the tattoo from Octavia’s class! I’ve drawn her freaking tattoo. That’s why she seemed so familiar!_

Clarke is amazed by what a small world it truly is. Or rather, a small campus.

Clarke is so caught up with watching her chatter that she doesn’t notice when Octavia finishes writing her exam early. That is why, when Octavia draws up beside her, Clarke jumps a little in surprise.

“Oh, hey! How was it?” Clarke asks, hesitantly forcing herself to look at Octavia. Her eyes keep flicking back to her Mystery Girl, as though making sure she is still there.

“Not bad. My hand hurts like a bitch, but I finished the damn thing early and I think it went okay. How was your interview? Hello? Earth to Clarke!”

Octavia snaps her finger in front of Clarke’s face, and Clarke jumps again.

“What are you staring at, woman?” Octavia asks.

“It’s her.”

“Who? The ghost of Christmas past? I’m going to need more than that. Use your words, dude.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Mystery Girl. She’s in your class! She’s that girl whose tattoo I was drawing that time, remember?”

“Oh, shit! No way! That’s a pretty cool coincidence.”

“Yeah. Small world.”

“You’re bailing on lunch, aren’t you?” Octavia says after a few seconds of watching Clarke watch the girl.

“Yes," Clarke says apologetically. "What are your terms?” This is what they do whenever one of them flakes on proper plans. It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes it cannot be helped. Like right now. Clarke has to speak to her Mystery Chatter.

“When we reschedule, you’re paying,” Octavia states.

“I accept.”

“I wasn’t done.”

Clarke sighs. “What else?”

“I get to choose where we go… and it’ll be _expensive_.”

Octavia is grinning far too much for Clarke’s liking. “You’re a little shit for doing this, but I accept.”

“Of course you do,” Octavia says, still smiling that shit-eating smile. “Alright, I’ll see you later. Let me know how it goes.”

“Will do,” Clarke says.

Octavia walks away, and Clarke turns around just in time to see her tattooed friend gather her things and get up from her desk. Clarke waits for her to walk out and up the steps that will lead her to the room in which Clarke is currently standing.

God, I’m just waiting here to ambush her after an exam. What’s wrong with me? This is a terrible idea.

Clarke cannot help this overwhelming need she has to make sure that this girl is okay, that she is sleeping and eating and generally taking care of herself. That she’s not alone.

She doesn’t notice Clarke, instead heading straight for the exit. Clarke pushes all of her doubts to the corner of her mind and catches up with her Mystery Chatter.

“So, poli sci, huh?” she says when she is walking right beside her.

The girl looks around, and when she sees Clarke she freezes. Clarke very nearly runs right into her. She stares at Clarke in disbelief for a second before walking on at a significantly faster pace, heading for the exit of the building.

_Is she literally running away from me right now? Seriously?_

Clarke keeps up with her, and once they are outside the girl just sighs and slows down. Clarke takes this as a good sign.

“The weather is nice today, huh?” Clarke says pleasantly. “A bit of a breeze, lots of sunlight. It’s neat.”

The girl does not respond, but she spares Clarke a confused glance. Clarke mentally cringes.

_Neat? Honestly? What the hell, Clarke? God._

“I’ve actually seen you in some of Octavia’s classes," Clarke says, pressing forward regardless. "Octavia is a friend of mine, doing a double major in poli sci and anthropology. I go to her classes sometimes. How do you find the program? Or is global pol just an elective?”

The girl is still not looking directly at Clarke, but she at least replies this time. “My major is political science. I enjoy it.”

It’s short and mechanical, but at least it is something. Clarke is struggling to think of what to say next when the girl speaks up instead.

“You look very formal.”

It is a simple statement, but Clarke grins widely. “I always go around looking like this." Clarke mentally cringes once again.

_What is wrong with my mouth right now?_

"Actually, no… that’s a lie. I rarely ever dress this well. It’s just that I had an interview this morning, so… yeah.”

The girl nods. “For that research position working with children, correct?”

Clarke blinks in surprise. She does not even remember ever mentioning the interview or the job. She smiles. “I - uh, yeah, that’s the one. I’m surprised you remembered.”

The girl does not respond.

Clarke realises that they headed for the girl’s house, and Clarke is running out of time. She does not expect to be invited in this time around.

“So…” Clarke takes a deep breath. “Why... have you been avoiding me?”

The girl’s jaw clenches noticeably, and Clarke hesitates before adding on quietly, “Did I… Are you upset that I came to your house?”

The girl’s face appears to soften at this just slightly, and she finally looks directly at Clarke. But she looks away quickly and does not say anything.

Clarke sighs and figures that this is probably not the best place to have this discussion. There are a lot of people around, and Clarke is fairly certain her chatter is not one for public confrontations.

Clarke thinks that this is probably a battle that she won’t be able to win, but for some reason she does not want to give up quite yet. She’s caught up in her own thoughts, trying to figure out what to say next, when the breeze that she had been enjoying earlier starts to pick up a little. The girl, who is wearing a thin, sleeveless top, crosses her arms across her chest and ducks her head a bit against the wind. She speeds up her pace once again.

_She’s cold._

Clarke automatically shrugs off her blazer and offers it to the girl. “Here, put this on.”

“No,” the girl replies immediately.

“You’re wearing a tank top, and you’re cold.”

The girl immediately drops her arms to her side. “No, I am not.”

Clarke watches in amazement as the girl seems to will herself not to shiver.

“Well, the option is here if you want it.”

The girl looks at the blazer and then looks away again. “If I took it, you would be cold.”

“I have a full-sleeved shirt on. I’ll be fine.”

They remain silent for a moment. “I will be at my house in five minutes anyway.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Closer to ten, actually. Just take it.”

The girl glances at the blazer, then makes eye contact with Clarke for a fraction of a second before looking away again.

“You do not have to do this,” she says stiffly.

Clarke frowns. “What do you mean?”

“This… all of this.... everything!” She stops walking and turns to face Clarke. “Texting and asking about my day and coming over and -” her breath catches, and she stops. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, opening them again as she exhales. She looks around them briefly and warily notes the number of people around them. She continues talking in a more calm and quiet tone. “You do not have to do these things for the sake of being a good peer support volunteer. You do not have to feel any guilt or any kind of obligation to me. I am fine on my own. So just… _stop_.”

Clarke blinks. “A good v... _seriously?_ This isn’t about that. We are most definitely not allowed to talk with anyone outside of the Line like this.”

“Then why are you doing this?” the girl asks, searching Clarke’s face as she struggles to understand. It pains Clarke that she simply cannot fathom why someone would want to help her.

“I just… I just want to be there for you,” Clarke says with a helpless shrug. She doesn’t know what else to say. “I want to be your friend.”

The girl stares at Clarke in wide-eyed shock for a few moments. Eventually, the girl regains her composure. She straightens her back and, in a cool and calm voice, she says, “What if I do not want to be your friend?”

“Oh.” Clarke looks at the ground, and she’s surprised by how much the words upset her. Clarke stands there and awkwardly scratches the back of her neck.. “Oh, well that’s… that… okay. I understand.”

Just as Clarke starts to back away, she looks up and sees a deep sadness, and a flash of what looks like panic in the other girl’s eyes. It seems as though the girl wants to say something, but instead she merely blinks and sets her jaw, remaining silent as she averts her gaze. Her shoulders slump just slightly. It is clear that she will not take back her words, nor will she ask Clarke to stay and continue talking to her. Even if that is what she wants. Doing so would be weak.

This thought stirs something in Clarke’s chest, and she decides to go with her instincts. She isn’t going to walk away this time. Not until she is certain.

“I am not going to force you to talk to me or be my friend,” Clarke says gently. “Not if you don’t want to. And I won’t be offended if you don’t, so please don’t worry about that. But I just… I don’t want you to feel alone, either.”

The girl eyes Clarke warily, remaining silent. Clarke soldiers on.

“I hope you believe me when I say that I want to be there if you need me. Not out of some sort of sense of obligation… just because I do not want you to be alone. Especially not on nights like that other night. And it does not matter if being ‘there’ means holding you as you cry, or marathon-ing Game of Thrones.”

The look Clarke gets in response to these words seems to border between awe and disbelief.

“ _Why?_ ” comes the choked response.

“Because...” Clarke begins, looking around in frustration as she tries to figure out where she is going with the rest of the sentence. Her response ends up being more honest and open than she ever intended for it to be. “Because it sucks to not have someone be there for you when you need it the most. It sucks to feel alone because you’ve pushed away the people who want to help you.” Clarke looks away and adds quietly, “I would know.” 

The girl’s face remains impassive, but her eyes betray her emotions. She is afraid, though Clarke does not know why.

“I do not _need_ anyone,” the girl replies mechanically.

“It’s okay to need people,” Clarke says tiredly.

Something changes in the girl’s face when Clarke says this. Clarke does not know how to explain it, but the closest thing she can think of to describe the change is _breaking._

“What happened… what you _saw_ … it was a part of me that... “ She trails off and takes a shaky breath.

_It was a part of me that I don’t let anyone see._

Clarke finishes the sentence for the girl in her own head, but she does not say anything. She waits.

“You have seen too much. I do not even know you...”

Still, Clarke remains silent. She simply looks into the other girl’s eyes for as long as she maintains eye contact.

“I was _weak,_ okay?” the girl all but hisses in frustration. “I was weak, and I will not allow myself to be that way in front of another person again. And you need to please take the next exit out of my life, because I cannot deal with you looking at me and talking to me when you _know_.”

She is done talking now, that much is clear. Clarke looks at her for a while before finally speaking. “I don’t think any less of you after... that night. If anything, I have even more respect for you now than ever.”

The girl refuses to look up. Clarke swallows and takes a deep breath. “You aren’t the only one who…” she trails off, shakes her head slightly, and then tries to start again. “We’re all messed up, just in different ways. Even me. I may not have been through the same stuff as you, but I know what it feels like to push people away and to lose people because of that. Please don’t…” Clarke sighs and stops mid-sentence once again.

She shakes her head and groans in frustration, finally drawing a questioning look from the girl.

“Okay,” Clarke says, trying again. “We can just start over.”

The girl looks at her, confused. Clarke extends her hand. “Hi, I’m Clarke Griffin.”

The girl hesitates, and for one awful moment Clarke is certain that she is not going to reach out and shake her hand. Clarke breathes out a subtle sigh of relief when the girl finally does take her hand, albeit reluctantly. She does not offer her own name, and Clarke does not ask for it.

When the girl drops her hand, she simply turns and begins to walk away again. Clarke does not understand what is happening, but she continues to follow the girl.

“I’m not going to be wearing this blazer either way, so if you don’t take it then I’ll just have to carry it,” Clarke says with a smile on her face.

“You will get cold,” the girl says.

“I’ll be fine. The cold never bothered me anyway.”

The girl’s lips curls up just slightly with a hint of a smile, and she lets out a huff of amusement. Clarke grins in response, pleased with herself.

“Very well,” the girl says slowly with a tiny nod.

Clarke hands over the blazer without hesitation, and the girl puts it on. Clarke feels like this is some kind of small victory.

The girl looks at her out of the corner of her eye and says quietly, “My name is Lexa.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, please let me know what you think (the more detailed your response, the better. Seriously. Go ahead and send me an essay or like 20 asks on tumblr. I'll read it all and love every second of it)! Follow me on tumblr at thesummerofrain to watch me freak out over this fic and ramble on endlessly.


	7. Let Peace Be Yours Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Gonna Be Okay by The Band Perry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for how long this has taken. I don't have an excuse, really. Life got a bit busy. I hope you enjoy it!

Clarke’s eyes widen in recognition when she hears the name.

_No, there’s no way..._

The world cannot be quite that small. Clarke figures that Lexa is probably a common name, but she still resolves to look up Anya’s roommate on Facebook when she gets home.

Clarke’s surprise must be evident on her face, though, because Lexa glances at her and says, “Is something the matter?”

Clarke hesitates. “Um… You wouldn’t happen to be Lexa… Heda?”

Lexa tilts her head slightly and frowns at Clarke in confusion. Her eyes narrow. “How do you know that?” she asks warily. Clarke can visibly see her withdrawing from her, the suspicion evident in her features.

Clarke is quick to explain herself. “I’m friends with Anya!” she blurts out.

Lexa seems taken aback by this, and she falters a bit but continues walking. “Oh.”

“So then, you’re her housemate, right?”

“I - yes, I am.”

“Wow. This is crazy.”

“Yes, that is… quite the coincidence,” Lexa says. Her voice sounds far away, and she seems distracted, somehow. Clarke can’t quite figure out why there is such a sudden change.

“Anya hangs out with me and some of my friends at the library sometimes. Well, I say hang out, but we’re mostly studying, obviously. Or trying to study, at least. We actually have quite the study group going.”

_And you never show up._

The words cross Clarke’s mind, but she does not say them out loud. She wonders if Lexa is thinking the same thing. The hesitation that Clarke has noticed whenever Anya tried to explain why Lexa did not show up suddenly seems to make more sense.

“Yes, Anya has mentioned something about some kind of study group.”

They turn onto Polis street, and Clarke suddenly feels a sense of urgency. She feels like time is running out.

Clarke is about to ask her to join them at the library, but she doesn’t. Instead, they simply walk to Lexa’s place in a comfortable silence. Clarke decides that she will not be the one to break it.

They are just approaching Lexa’s yard when she finally speaks up.

“Alright, then. I’ll, um, I’ll speak with you later… Clarke,” Lexa says quietly, hesitating before using Clarke’s name.

“Yeah. Talk to you later,” Clarke says. “Lexa,” she adds with a smile. Lexa gives her a hint of a smile in return and then heads for her front door.

 

As she’s walking home, Clarke changes the contact name in her phone from _“Mystery Chatter”_ to _“Lexa Heda.”_

When she gets home and walks through the door, Octavia approaches her. “How did it go with mystery girl? It didn’t take very long…”

“It was fine,” Clarke replies with a shrug. “We’re talking again now, I think.”

“Oh, good. So you’ll be less worried and annoying all of the time now?”

Clarke rolls her eyes and doesn’t reply, instead heading for her room to change out of her interview clothes. That’s when Clarke notices that she is currently without a blazer.

“Well, shit.”

Octavia pops her head into Clarke’s room. “What’s the matter?”

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” Clarke says dismissively, throwing on a T-shirt. “Just realised I forgot to take something back from Lexa, that’s all.”

Octavia frowns and says in confusion, “We don’t know a Lexa.”

“I have friends you don’t know."

“Lies!" Octavia exclaims, sitting down on Clarke's bed. I’ve met like all of your Health Sci friends. And I’ve even met your friends from French. Most of them like me more than they like you, just fyi.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Keep telling yourself that, O. Anyway, Lexa is mystery girl’s name.”

“Oh, so you’ve progressed to names! That’s exciting!”

“Sure, O,” Clarke says, shooing her friend out of her tiny room and into the kitchen. “I’m hungry. We could still go out to eat, or do you just want to eat at home now?”

Octavia shrugs, hopping up onto the kitchen counter. “We’re at home now. I’m already wearing sweats... I don’t have it in me to go out anymore.”

“Fair enough,” Clarke laughs, and she heads for the cupboard to find something to cook for the both of them.

“So wait, what did you forget to take back from her?” Octavia asks, her feet dangling and banging against the cupboards.

“Just my blazer.”

Octavia’s feet still, and she gets off the counter. “I’m sorry, _what_?”

“What?” Clarke asks, confused.

“You gave her your _blazer_?”

“Yeah, it’s not that big a deal. Why are you being weird about it?”

“Are you being serious right now?”

Clarke doesn’t reply, and simply takes out some pasta from the cupboard.

“You nearly bit my head off when I asked to try it on, but you just gave it to Mystery Girl?”

“Lexa,” Clarke corrects her.

"Did she twist your arm and pin you down? Did she blackmail you? What did it take?"

Clarke sighs. "She was cold, O."

“Wow... I’m _hurt,_ ” Octavia says, dramatically clutching her heart.

Clarke rolls her eyes at Octavia yet again (something she ends up doing far too many times in one day when it comes to Octavia).

“Too hurt to eat the pasta I’m about to cook for us?”

“Well, let’s not go crazy now…”

Clarke smirks. “I thought so.”

 

They’re both standing around in the kitchen eating their lunch when Clarke gets a text.

**12.17PM**  
 **Mother Hen**  
So, you know Lexa?

Clarke smiles at this, and she wonders what Lexa has told Anya in such a short amount of time.

**12.18PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Yeah, turns out I do.

 **12.18PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Funny coincidence!

“Who’s texting?” Octavia asks as she shovels her food into her mouth.

“Anya. Don't talk with your mouth full."

“She’s cool,” Octavia says.

“Yup, she is. Now stop talking with your mouth full."

“She coming to the library with us tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. Your mouth is still full and you're still talking."

Octavia swallows her food before speaking again. “She should bring Lincoln if she is.” She tries to say it casually, but Clarke knows her too well.

“You seemed to be getting on really well at the library,” Clarke says. “Between the two of you and _Minty_ , Raven was nearly losing her mind.”

Octavia laughs. “I like him,” she says simply. Octavia’s never lacked confidence, so she has no trouble admitting her feelings.

“I think he likes you too,” Clarke says.

“Of course he does. What’s not to like?”

Clarke rolls her eyes.

**12.19PM**  
 **Mother Hen**  
Lexa says she’ll be joining us at  
the library tomorrow.

 **12.20PM**  
 **Mother Hen**  
If that’s alright with you and  
your friends.

Clarke is pleasantly surprised by this. A part of her believed that Lexa would be even less likely to come to their study sessions now that she knew Clarke would be there. It seems she was mistaken.

**12.20PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
No, that would be great!

 **12.20PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Octavia says to bring Lincoln  
as well.

 **12.20PM**  
 **Mother Hen**  
He’ll be there.

 **12.20PM**  
 **Mother Hen**  
I’m sure Raven will be entertained  
watching him and Octavia.

“Good news, O. Lincoln will be coming.”

“Excellent.”

**12.20PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Yeah, she’s not a fan of pda.

 **12.20PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Or anything vaguely romantic, really.

 **12.21PM**  
 **Mother Hen**  
It is rather amusing how  
worked up she gets.

Octavia and Clarke briefly debate going ot the library to study for a while, but neither of them really feel up to it. Octavia wants to give herself the rest of the day off after her exam, and Clarke still has plenty of time. They end up staying at home and watching increasingly shitty reality shows online while eating unhealthy amounts of ice cream.

During a particularly dull episode of Breaking Amish, Clarke pulls out her phone to send a text.

**3.46PM**  
 **Unknown Number**  
So I hear you’ll be joining  
us at the library tomorrow

The reply comes when they’re halfway through the next episode.

**4.02PM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
Yes, I hope that is okay with you

 **4.02PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Of course it’s okay

 **4.02PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
We’re happy to have you join   
our little study group!

 **4.05PM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
Okay.

Clarke does not receive any more texts from Lexa for the rest of the day. After she wakes up in the morning to the usual sound of La Vie en Rose, she finds herself wondering whether her mystery chatter - _Lexa,_ she reminds herself - will actually come to the library today.

She goes about making sure that Octavia is awake and then starts on breakfast. Octavia eventually emerges from her room looking as groggy as she always does at 8am. She goes straight for the fridge and pulls out the carton of orange juice.

“Should we maybe take food to the library today?" Octavia asks, sipping the juice straight from the bottle. "I’ve been spending way too much on lunch lately.”

“Good point,” Clarke says as she flips the omelette on the frying pan. “We can take something to eat this time.”

“I’m on it.”

Octavia prepares sandwiches for the two of them while Clarke finishes up with breakfast.

“We need to go for groceries soon, by the way,” Octavia says a little while later over eggs.

“Right. Is it your turn to pay or mine?”

“Um...I don’t remember.”

“Neither do I.”

“Crap, why do we always do this?”

Clarke shrugs. “Well, I think it’s me this time.”

“We’re so domestic,” Octavia points out with a fond smile on her face.

Clarke laughs. “What?”

“Preparing sandwiches for each other. Having breakfast together. Going for groceries together. We really are an old married couple.”

“Yeah, I guess we are,” Clarke says with a shrug. “Nothing new, though. We’ve been doing this kind of thing since we were, what, sixteen?”

“I think we were fourteen when Mama G started sending us out to buy groceries. We were maybe fifteen when we first started making breakfast for ourselves.”

“You mean when _I_ started making breakfast for _you_.”

“I made it _some_ of the time!”

“Yeah, probably once a month at most.”

“But you’re just so much better at it than I am, C.”

“Shut up. That’s a load of bullshit. Flattery will get you nowhere, O.”

“Past experience tells me otherwise,” Octavia says with a smirk.

Clarke narrows her eyes at Octavia but does not deny the truth of her words.“Yeah, yeah. Just shut up and do the dishes so we can go to the library. Wouldn’t want to keep Lincoln waiting, now, would we?”

“He’s a patient guy,” Octavia says, but she gets up and starts to do the dishes all the same.

When they arrive at the library, they find Raven and Monty already there. Jasper is apparently too lazy to come today, and Miller will be there later on in the day.

“You saving that seat for someone special, Monty?” Octavia asks teasingly. Monty doesn’t respond.

“Don’t listen to her, Monty,” Clarke says. “Octavia’s saving a seat for Lincoln, anyway.”

“So they’re joining us again?” Raven asks.

“Yup.”

“Lexa’s coming too,” Clarke says. “Please be nice.”

“Wait, _Lexa_?” Octavia exclaims. She lowers her voice and leans closer to Clarke. “Is this the same Lexa?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that…?”

_“Yes.”_

“My bad.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Raven asks suspiciously.

Clarke feels a bit uncomfortable talking about it out in the open like this, so she just shrugs it off and tells Raven that she will fill her in later.

Clarke takes the seat beside Raven. Octavia knows that the two seats on Clarke’s other side will be for Lexa and Anya, so she sits down beside Monty.

Anya and Lexa arrive not twenty minutes after Clarke and Octavia. Clarke smiles, happy that Lexa has decided to actually show up today.

“Hey there, cheekbones,” Raven says. “Looks like you brought another friend along to play.”

Clarke sighs and gives Raven a look that says _be nice._

“Yes. Everyone, this is my housemate, Lexa.”

“Lexa, I’m so glad you could join us!” Clarke says with a smile. Lexa hesitantly returns the smile.

Raven looks between the two of them with curiosity but does not say anything. There’s a quick round of introductions for Lexa’s benefit, and Lexa gives a polite little smile to everyone in turn. Anya takes the seat beside Clarke, and Lexa sits on Anya’s other side at the end of the table. Clarke isn’t quite sure why this little detail makes such an impression on her mind, but it does.

“So, where’s Lincoln?” Raven asks Anya. “Don’t tell me he isn’t coming. I don’t think Octavia’s poor, fragile heart could handle the disappointment.”

“Shut up, Ray!” Octavia exclaims, throwing an eraser at her head. Raven dodges it easily and just laughs.

“Lincoln has an exam at 2. He’ll be joining us after.”

 

Lexa does not say much for a while. Clarke finds herself wanting to engage her in some kind of conversation, but she also doesn’t want to interrupt her if she is busy studying.

Clarke half-heartedly attempts to go through some anthropology notes as well, but she does not get very far.

**11.15AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
What are you not telling me?

Clarke frowns.

**11.15AM**  
 **Starfish**  
What do you mean?

 **11.16AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
How do you know Little Ms.   
Green Eyes?

 **11.16AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
And why do you keep looking over at   
her like she’s about to spontaneously  
combust or some shit?

 **11.16AM**  
 **Starfish**  
Are you incapable of using  
people’s actual names?

 **11.17AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Well what would be the fun in  
doing that?

 **11.17AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Anyway answer my question

 **11.17AM**  
 **Starfish**  
Fine!

 **11.19AM**  
 **Starfish**  
She’s the mystery chatter from   
the line

Raven lets out an audible gasp, which draws curious looks from the others.

**11.19AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Ohh shit why didn’t you tell me

 **11.19AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
That’s why it’s all awkward

 **11.19AM**  
 **Starfish**  
It isn’t awkward.

 **11.18AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Dude, it’s pretty awkward...

 **11.18AM**  
 **Starfish**  
Whatever, just don’t say anything  
to make it weird, please.

 **11.19AM**  
 **Ray-Ray Reyes**  
Would I do such a thing?

 **11.19AM**  
 **Starfish**  
Yes, you do that all the time,  
actually.

“Are you two messaging each other again?” Anya asks.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“They have an addiction to technology. Especially Clarke,” Octavia says.

“It’s unhealthy, really,” Monty adds

“You are literally sitting right beside each other,” Anya says, shaking her head.

“Yeah but we’re bitching about the rest of you so we need to keep the conversation private,” Raven says, as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world.

“Of course you are.”

“Nothing stopping you from doing the same with Green Eyes over there. You can talk about how weird and distracting we all are.”

“Raven!” Clarke smacks her friend on the shoulder. “Can you at least try not to be a little shit for once?”

“I don’t think she can help it, C,” Octavia says.

“It’s too deeply ingrained,” Monty agrees.

“Once a little shit, always a little shit,” Octavia says, nodding her head wisely.

“Agreed,” Clarke says with a laugh.

“You’re guys suck. You’re going to regret this… Trust me,” Raven says threateningly. She glares at Clarke, leans in, and in a quieter tone she adds, “Especially you, Princess.”

“Bring it on, Reyes,” Clarke says with a challenging smirk. “Do your worst, for I shall do mine.”

“Did you just quote The Count of Monte Cristo?” Lexa asks, interrupting the little argument that would probably have turned rather heated soon. Clarke is pleasantly surprised by Lexa’s interest. She almost expects Raven to say something stupid like, _Oh, so you do speak,_ but thankfully, Raven remains quiet.

“Yeah, Clarke likes boring long movies based on boring long books,” Octavia answers.

“The Count of Monte Cristo is not boring,” Lexa says immediately. She then bites her lip and seems embarrassed with herself for speaking out.

“Thank you, Lexa,” Clarke says, picking up on Lexa’s discomfort and bringing everyone’s attention back to herself. She turns to Octavia and adds, “It’s a classic tale of vengeance and forgiveness. What's not to love?”

“It’s a classic tale of a bunch of sexually frustrated men being shitty to one another,” Octavia says flatly. “Not exactly ground breaking material, is it?”

“I’m not going to take this hate from someone who doesn’t even like Game of Thrones,” Clarke huffs. “Clearly your taste is _terrible_.”

“Wait, how can you not like Game of Thrones?” Lexa asks with a frown, and an unexpected amount of force in her voice that makes Clarke smile.

“More sexually frustrated men being shitty to each other... _and_ to women,” Octavia says. “No thank you.”

“Well, to be fair, they’re not _all_ sexually frustrated,” Monty says.

“That doesn’t make it any better, Monty.”

Clarke decides that it simply isn’t worth continuing this argument. She is honestly more interested in the fact that Lexa appears to be talking a little more readily. Clarke also notices the way Anya is smiling at Lexa, as though she, too, is pleasantly surprised by Lexa’s questions.

While Anya briefly vacates her seat to go to the washroom, Lexa leans over and says to Clarke, “I noticed Raven called you Princess?”

Clarke laughs. “Just a dumb nickname,” she says dismissively.

“Where did it come from?”

“Where did what come from?” Anya asks, returning and shoving Lexa off her desk space so that she can sit down.

Raven looks up, intrigued by the conversation.

“Nothing,” Lexa mutters.

“She was asking why I call Clarke Princess. Now that’s an interesting story!” Raven says.

“It’s not that interesting,” Clarke says to Lexa and Anya.

“You let them decide for themselves what they think is interesting, Princess,” Raven says. Lexa smiles, and even though Clarke wants to sigh, she cannot help but smile a bit in return.

“Do you not have an exam to study for, Raven?”

“Yes, but we all know I’m going to ace it either way. And this is more fun than studying.”

“Okay, what’s the story here, then?” Anya asks.

“So there’s this video -”

“Raven, _do not do this_ ,” Clarke says threateningly.

“Well, colour me intrigued,” Anya smirks. “Go on, then. Tell the story.”

“Okay, hold on a sec,” Raven says. “I’m interrupting the public humiliation of Clarke Griffin to ask if you actually just said the words _‘colour me intrigued_ ’...”

“Is that a problem?” Anya asks.

“Nobody says ‘colour me intrigued.’ At least, not anybody in this decade.”

“I do,” Anya states simply, as if that should settle the matter. “Now, are you going to tell us the story, or are you just going to waste more of my time making inane comments?”

Raven blinks. She opens her mouth, but when no words come out, she closes it again after a few seconds and just looks a bit confused.

“Holy shit,” Octavia says in amazement. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her speechless before.”

“I have that effect on people,” Anya says with a smirk and a wink.

Raven shakes her head slightly and settles her features into a frown. Anya’s self-satisfied smirk only grows.

It seems as though the conversation is at an end, but then Octavie speaks up. “Tell them the Princess story, Ray!”

“Oh, right, I almost forgot!” Raven says, recovering quickly from her temporary shock. “So there’s this video of Clarke, right -”

“Raven, _do not._ ”

“She asked, C. It would be rude of me not to answer.”

“And since when are you so concerned about not being rude?”

“Since now. Anyway, as I was saying - before Clarke so _rudely_ interrupted - there’s this video of Clarke. Actually, wait... I think I have it on my phone!”

“You do _not_!” Clarke says in disbelief.

“Wanna bet?” Raven picks up her phone, going through her gallery. “Ugh, okay, I don’t have the video.”

Clarke is pleased at first, but Raven still has a smug grin on her face and Clarke’s smile falters.

“I don’t have the video, but I _do_ have a picture...”

Clarke groans as Raven holds her phone out to Anya and Lexa. Anya reaches out and takes it, holding it so that both she and Lexa can look at the picture of a young girl wearing an elaborate princess costume. It is very pink. There are a lot of ruffles.

“How old are you here, Clarke?” Anya asks, the amusement poorly hidden in her voice.

“Take a guess,” Raven says, before Clarke has the opportunity to answer.

Lexa and Anya exchange a brief look.

“14?” Anya guesses.

“I was 11,” Clarke says flatly.

Lexa’s eyebrows raise slightly.

“She was an early bloomer,” Raven explains in a stage whisper.

“Raven!” Clarke exclaims, slapping Raven on the arm.

Raven tries to contain her smirk as she just shrugs and says with feigned innocence, “What? It’s the truth.”

“She has a point, C,” Octavia says.

“Whatever,” Clarke huffs. “I’m actually going to study now. Screw you guys.”

“So, what? You call her Princess because she dressed up as a princess when she was a kid?” Anya asks.

“Oh, no. There’s so much more,” says Octavia.

Clarke puts in her earphones and turns the volume all the way up on Tchaikovsky.

“There was a contest…” Raven says.

“Oh my God.”

“Wasn’t there also a dance routine, Ray?” Octavia asks teasingly.

Clarke determinedly stares at her laptop screen and pretends not to hear.

“ _Please_ tell me there was a dance routine,” Anya says.

“Oh, there was a dance routine alright,” Raven confirms, her grin growing impossibly wide.

_“Oh my God.”_

“Yup.”

“I must see this this video,” Anya says determinedly.

"I want to see it, too," Lexa says.

“Get in line,” Monty interjects. “Jasper and I haven’t even seen it yet.”

“You’ll get to see it when we go for Bellamy’s show after exams, Monty. Don’t you worry,” Octavia says.

 _“What?”_ Clarke exclaims, pulling out her earphones. “I never agreed to this.”

“It’s not really up to you, I’m afraid,” Raven says in a mock apologetic tone. “Sorry, Princess.”

“Who is Bellamy?” Anya asks.

“Octavia’s brother,” Clarke replies.

“He’s quite the looker, but he can be kind of an arrogant ass,” Raven says. “That’s pretty much all you need to know about him.”

“Can we please not say that my brother is ‘quite the looker’?”

Raven shrugs. “I speak the truth. Big Blake is hot. His abs make me want to do things to him.”

Anya eyes Raven curiously at this, but doesn’t say anything.

“Can you not?” Octavia groans.

“Don’t worry, O. You’re still the hotter Blake.”

Octavia rolls her eyes, but laughs when Raven winks at her. “Damn right I am.”

“The three of you have an interesting friendship,” Lexa points out.

The trio laughs at this.

“You have no idea,” Monty says.

“What does that mean?” Anya asks.

“You’ll find out,” Raven assures her.

They let it drop, and everyone finally goes back to actually studying.

With the exception of a food run, and the arrivals of Miller and Lincoln, the next few hours go by with actual studying taking place. Even Clarke decides to suck it up and look through her stats notes. So at 5.30 when Lexa begins to pack up her things, it does not go unnoticed.

“You leaving us already? Have we scared you away?” Raven asks.

“I just got here,” Lincoln says, pretending to sound hurt. “Are you not going to stay for me?”

Lexa rolls her eyes at him. “You have plenty of company here. You know I have to get ready to go to work.”

“Working during exams?” Octavia says, surprised. “Damn. I’m impressed.”

Lexa does not reply, and simply finishes packing up her things. Instead, Anya speaks up and says, “Yeah, this one’s a hard worker. Always has been.”

“You could learn a thing or two from Lexa, O,” Raven says.

“Shut your face, you bully,” Octavia replies.

“Are you saying Octavia isn’t a hard worker?” Lincoln asks.

“I am so a hard worker,” Octavia says immediately, before Raven can say anything.

“Well, I’m off,” Lexa says, and another argument is avoided as the group choruses a round of goodbyes.

“See you later,” Clarke says, and there is a vague hint of a question in her voice that the others don’t pick up on. Clarke can see that Lexa has noticed it, though, because she is paying attention. Lexa gives a subtle nod, and then turns to leave the library. Clarke smiles to herself as she watches her leave.

It’s not long before Clarke and Octavia also head out. They still have days before their next exams, so they can afford to relax for a bit.

“Was it weird seeing her just normally like that?” Octavia asks during the walk home. “Like, just studying... no PSL-ing involved.”

Clarke shrugs as she continues to walk. “It was kind of nice, actually. A bit weird at first, I guess, but a nice change.”

“Lexa seems nice,” Octavia says.

“Yeah,” Clarke agrees.

“I hope Raven didn’t scare her off.”

Clarke laughs. “I don’t think she did.”

“Good.”

As they walk home, Clarke notices the garbage cans and recycling bins lining the streets, outside every house.

“Tomorrow is garbage day,” she reminds Octavia.

“Oh, yeah. Crap. What a pain in the ass.”

“Think there’s a chance Kayla and Anna took out the garbage and recycling already?”

“Hah!” Octavia says. “That’ll be a first. I think I might faint if they did it already.”

“You never know…”

“You’re giving them too much credit, C.”

“They aren’t that bad,” Clarke says, shuffling her feet a little. “They help if we ask them to…”

“Yeah, but we shouldn’t have to ask them. It’s their damn house as well. They’re nice girls and all that jazz, but they’re terrible housemates.”

“They aren’t _terrible_.”

“Okay, not terrible, then. Just… inconsiderate.”

“Fine,” Clarke agrees.

“Whatever word you want to use for it, I’m just glad they’re graduating at the end of the year,” Octavia says.

“Hopefully our next housemates are more considerate.”

“They damn well better be!” Octavia says forcefully, just as they turn onto their street. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I could stand living with just those two.”

“If it wasn’t for me, you would have brutally murdered them in their sleep by now. Over dirty dishes.”

Octavia does not disagree with this. She can have a bit of a short temper when she’s stressed, as she is now with exams and whatnot. They both know this.

“They were _your_ friends, you know,” Clarke points out. “That’s why we moved in with them.”

“They were more like acquaintances, okay,” Octavia clarifies. “We needed a place. They seemed nice enough. And they were going into fourth year… I thought they would be mature and shit. I was wrong, obviously.”

Clarke laughs and shakes her head.

Sure enough, the garbage has not been taken out. Clarke and Octavia tag-team the chore as usual, taking out the recycling and the trash and the compost. Octavia tries to be extra loud, in the hopes that their housemates will hear it, but she has no such luck. Clarke is fairly certain that they are not even home.

Some time after 2am, Clarke is woken up by the sound of a text message. She blinks several times in confusion. Her phone goes off again with another text and, realising what it was that woke her up, she reaches her hand out blindly in the general direction of her phone until she finds it. She holds it above her face, and the screen nearly blinds her in the darkness. She has to look away.

**2.04AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
I enjoyed studying with you and  
your friends today

 **2.04AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
Well, technically yesterday, I  
suppose

Clarke smiles sleepily as she reads the messages.

 

 **2.05AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
We enjoyed having you there too

 **2.05AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
Octavia was worried that Raven  
may have scared you away

 **2.05AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
Not at all

 **2.06AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
I enjoyed her sense of humour

 **2.06AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
I’ll make sure not to tell her  
you said that

 **2.07AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
God knows that girl doesn’t  
need her ego inflated even  
more than it already is

 **2.07AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
I understand, Anya is very much  
the same

 **2.07AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
That explains why she can  
actually get Raven to shut  
up for a bit

 **2.07AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
Yes, she has a way with words  
that leaves most speechless

Clarke laughs at this and rolls over onto her side, into a more comfortable position. Her arms were starting to ache. Before she has a chance to think of a reply, she sees that Lexa is typing something, so she waits instead.

**2.08AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
This feels a bit strange, doesn’t it?

Clarke frowns at this. Nothing feels strange to her.

 

 **2.08AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
What do you mean?

 **2.08AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
Talking about our friends, and just  
normal things

Clarke has to take a second to think about how she wants to reply to this.

**2.09AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
I meant it when I said that we  
could start over

 **2.09AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
I would like for us to be friends

There is a bit of hesitation, a pause that seems to drag out. Clarke closes her eyes momentarily as she waits for Lexa to say something. If she were less tired right now, she would probably be a bit worried that Lexa might tell her that she doesn’t want to be friends, like she had the other day when they had had a very similar conversation.

**2.13AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
I think I would like that as well

 

Clarke grins.

 

 **2.13AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
Okay, good

 **2.14 AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
You can come hang out at the  
library any time

 **2.14 AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
Unfortunately, that’s the only  
socialising I’ve been doing lately

 **2.14AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
I might take you up on that  
offer

 **2.14AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
We’ll be there around 10 tomorrow

 **2.15AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
You should probably sleep if  
you are going to be up so early

 **2.15AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
Are you going to sleep now as well?

The three dots appear for a moment, but they disappear and then reappear the next second. Clarke wonders what Lexa has just deleted.

**2.17AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
That depends.

 **2.17AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
On what?

The pause lingers. Clarke closes her eyes again momentarily as she waits.

**2.25AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
If I can get my brain to shut up  
long enough for me to fall asleep

_Well,_ Clarke thinks, _at least she’s being honest with me._

**2.25AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
What’s on your mind?

 **2.27AM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
Many things.

Clarke frowns and thinks about it for a bit. She doesn’t want to make Lexa feel like she has to tell her what she’s thinking about. Still, her mind drifts back to earlier conversations.

_I have troubling dreams sometimes._

_  
_ _Different versions of the same nightmare, really._

 _  
_ _I am still haunted by her memories._

**2.32AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Is there anything that helps?

 **2.32AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
You have asked me this before

 **2.32AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
I still don’t know the answer

Clarke taps her fingers against her phone, debating whether or not she really wants to send the text that she is thinking of sending. She glances at the time on her phone.

 

_2.33AM. It's late. I shouldn't..._

_Screw it._

**2.33AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Did my being there help?

There is another pause.

 **2.35AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
It is late, you should sleep.

Clarke’s fingers still, and she frowns.

**2.35AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Lexa, I’m asking if my presence  
helped you sleep the other night

It’s a few minutes before Lexa begins typing anything. Clarke’s fingers continue to tap against her phone as she stares at her screen tiredly, waiting. The screen goes off, and her hands drop down to her sides. She closes her eyes again and yawns as sleep begins to take over. She is half-asleep when her phone rings out with another text, jogging her awake.

**2.51AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
It did.

 **2.51AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Okay then… I can come   
over again if you’d like

When there is no response for a few moments, Clarke worries that she has been too insistent, so she backtracks.

**2.55AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
You can say no if you want,  
it’s alright

 **2.56AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
It’s late.

 **2.56AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
It was late last time too

 **2.57AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
Go to sleep Clarke.

 **2.57AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
I will if you will

 **2.57AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
I will.

 **2.57AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Okay, good :)

 

 **2.59AM**  
**Clarke Griffin**  
My offer still stands for   
whenever

 **3.00AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
Good morning.

 **3.00AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Good morning

Clarke waits a few more moments, but she knows there won’t be another text. She closes her eyes and is asleep almost instantly, with her phone lying on her bed beside her.

She does not get much rest, though, because not half an hour later, she gets another text. Before Clarke even manages to grab her phone, a second text comes through. And then a third.

**3.26AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
Does that offer still stand?

 **3.26AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
Never mind. I’m sorry.

 **3.26AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
I did not mean to send that.

 

Clarke rubs the sleep from her eyes before replying.

 

 **3.26AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
I can be over in 10 minutes

 

There is a pause, Lexa does not seem to want to reply, and Clarke does not think she can wait fifteen minutes for a response this time.

**3.30AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Lexa?

The three dots appear, and they remain there for several minutes. Clarke waits.

**3.34AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
Okay.

Clarke throws off her blanket and gets out of bed, giving herself a bit of a head rush because of how quickly she stood up. She grabs her keys and slips into a pair of flip flops and heads for the door. Before she leaves, though, she remembers something. She goes back to her room, grabs a pen and a sticky note, and leaves a message on Octavia’s door.

_Gone to Lexa’s. Don’t call my mom!_

With that, Clarke heads out the door. Once she’s locked it, she sends another text.

**3.37AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
I’m on my way

 

 **3.43AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
I’m here

Clarke waits outside the door for a text, but instead she hears movement inside the house. The door is unlocked, and then Lexa is pulling it open. Clarke smiles at her. Lexa does not smile back.

Instead, Lexa leans against the door and simply looks at Clarke, and Clarke feels like she is being evaluated. She stands a little straighter.

“Why are you here, Clarke?” Lexa questions.

Clarke frowns. “I don’t… What do you mean?”

“Why did you come?” She sounds so tired and defeated. It pulls at something in Clarke’s chest.

“You wanted me to,” Clarke says simply.

Lexa looks at Clarke for another few seconds, but then gives a subtle nod and turns into the house, clearly expecting Clarke to follow. Clarke takes her flip flops off by the door and walks in, closing the door behind her and not quite knowing what to expect.

Lexa heads straight for her room. Clarke follows. When the door closes behind Clarke, she shuffles her feet and stands awkwardly around, her mind only half alert. Lexa is standing with her arms folded, holding herself, facing away from Clarke.

“What now?” she asks, not turning around.

Clarke shrugs. “It’s late,” she says softly, echoing Lexa’s earlier text and taking a tentative step forward. “You should sleep.”

Lexa turns around and smiles weakly. “There might be some truth to that.”

The smile fades, and Lexa’s shoulders seem to slump. “Why are you here, Clarke?” she asks again tiredly. Clarke steps forward and stands in front of Lexa, placing her hand on the other girl’s shoulders. Lexa does not look into Clarke’s eyes.

“I told you, Lexa,” Clarke says with a gentle smile. “I want to be here. I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I am getting used to being alone,” Lexa replies in a quiet voice. She still does not look at Clarke.

Clarke sighs, and retreats to take a seat on the edge of the bed. Lexa follows her movements with her eyes. “I used to feel that way, too, you know. I used to push people away all the time.”

Lexa hesitates, and then slowly turns to face Clarke, her arms still crossed. “Used to?” she asks, searching Clarke’s face for an answer. This time Clarke is the one reluctant to look up, but she does it. She looks at Lexa and simply nods.

“What changed?” Lexa asks, an intensity in her gaze that surprises Clarke somewhat. Lexa unconsciously takes a few steps forward.

A fond smile appears on Clarke’s lips before she replies. “You’ve met Octavia,” she says. “She is not one to let herself be pushed away.”

Lexa smiles in return, and takes a seat beside Clarke on the bed, both of them facing the empty wall instead of each other. Clarke stifles a yawn. “Yes, she seemed like that type,” Lexa says. “How long have the two of you known each other?”

“Since the second grade,” Clarke replies, the grin on her face growing. “We sat together on the bus on the first day of school, and well, the rest is history, I guess.”

“It must be nice getting to live with such an old friend now at uni.”

“Well, we lived together long before coming here,” Clarke says, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Oh, really?” Lexa asks, turning to look at Clarke curiously.

Clarke hesitates, not sure how much detail to go into when she is barely awake. “It’s kind of a long story…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Lexa says quickly, turning her gaze to the floor in embarrassment. She shakes her head. “I didn’t - I did not mean to -”

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m just - it’s fine,” Clarke says, catching herself before saying _‘I’m tired_ ’. “I don’t mind. Well… Octavia and her brother… they’ve been through a lot. Their mom passed away when O and I were 14. Bellamy was 17.”

“Oh… And their dad?”

“Different fathers, neither of them around much. Or at all.”

“I see.”

“They didn’t have any other living relatives. At least, none that they knew of.”

“So you… you just took them in?”

“It was live with us or be thrown into some messed up foster system. They would have been split up. I - I can’t even imagine... they aren’t meant to be separated, those two. I think my parents discussed it for all of two minutes before deciding.”

“Wow.”

Clarke nods, stifling another yawn. This time, Lexa is looking right at her, so she notices.

“You’re tired,” she points out.

Clarke intends to deny it, but she is unable to hold back another yawn. She laughs. “Maybe a little.”

Lexa nearly jumps off the bed. “Sleep,” she says simply, gesturing at the bed.

Clarke does not need to be told twice. She lies down and makes herself comfortable.

“You sleep too,” Clarke says sleepily. She adjusts herself on the bed and pats the space beside her.

Lexa hesitates. “I... I don’t think… This isn’t...”

Clarke means to reply, to say that it’s fine, but when she blinks, she seems to forget how to open her eyes. As she falls further, she is vaguely aware of Lexa moving closer and putting a blanket over her. She shakes her head a little and forces her eyes open.

“Lexa?” she says, a question in her tone. Clarke lifts the blankets and, after a brief moment of reluctance, Lexa joins her on the bed. Clarke smiles and, as she places the blanket down, her arm comes to rest lightly across Lexa’s stomach. Before she falls asleep, she thinks she hears Lexa sigh, and she feels her moving slightly closer.

"Good morning, Lexa."

"Good morning, Clarke."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was somewhat worth the wait. It was pure fluff, and that's probably why it took so long to write tbh. As always, leave a comment and/or hit me up on Tumblr at thesummerofrain to let me know what you think! :)


	8. The Sunshine's Been Missing (But Don't Believe That It Isn't There)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song There There Katie by Jack's Mannequin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a long time. All I can say is that I am sorry. I hope you enjoy it, and that it was at least somewhat worth the wait! For those of you who don't already know, this chapter is not from Clarke's point of view! For any of you who have tumblr, live blogging the chapter is encouraged because it is extremely entertaining. Just tag me (thesummerofrain) in it and I will find it!

A loud clattering rings through the house at 8.15 in the morning. Anya freezes mid-push up and decides to end her morning workout early. Frowning, she throws a tank top on over her sports bra and heads out of her room to see why Lexa is making so much noise in the kitchen. She is not normally a noisy person, and she rarely makes breakfast for herself anyway, so this is all rather strange. Perhaps it is not Lexa at all, and someone is trying to break into their house. At this thought, Anya quiets her steps and makes her way down the hall silently. When she approaches the kitchen, she sees a familiar figure looking through a drawer.

“Clarke?” Anya drops her defensive posture and does not attempt to mask her confusion.

“Oh, Anya! Hey! Sorry, did I wake you up when I dropped that frying pan?”

Anya frowns at her and answers calmly. “No, I was already awake. I get up early.”

“Right, how could I forget? You were always pushing for those 8.30 meetings for cell bio! Jasper and I hated you for that,” Clarke says with a light laugh. “Hey, where do you keep your salt and pepper?”

Anya does not answer and merely continues to frown, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms. “You are in my house. At 8 in the morning.”

“Um, yeah, I guess I am.”

Anya does not say anything further, and merely waits for Clarke to explain her presence.

“I’m… making omelettes,” Clarke says uncertainly.

“I can see that.”

“My omelettes require salt and pepper. Preferably some cayenne powder, too, if you have any.”

“Okay.”

“Um… Would you like an omelette?”

“I am not a fan of omelettes.”

“Well, you haven’t tried _my_ omelettes yet.”

“No, I have not.”

There is a pause in the conversation, and Clarke continues to open drawers and cupboards at random, searching for what she needs. Anya watches on in a strange blend of confusion and amusement.

“Clarke, you are in my house,” Anya says again, more slowly this time. She wonders if her tone is a little too curt, but she feels well within her rights to be this way. It is 8 in the morning.

“Yeah, you mentioned that already,” Clarke says.

When Clarke bangs a drawer shut just a bit too forcefully, Anya gives in. She does not want Clarke to wake Lexa up, because she knows that Lexa works late and needs all the rest that she can get. Though, if she is being honest with herself, Anya is not quite certain if Lexa really sleeps much at all. Anya sometimes hears her at night all the way from her own room. Lexa’s sleep does not exactly sound restful. But last night was quiet, so that is something, at least.

“Cupboard by the fridge. Top shelf,” Anya says.

“Thank you!”

Anya continues to watch, all the while wondering why on earth Clarke Griffin is in her kitchen so early in the morning. How does she even know where the house is? The only reason Anya is remaining calm is because this is not a total stranger who snuck into the house in the middle of the night. Clarke is a friend. There must be a logical explanation. And if Clarke would just _tell her_ what that is, everything would make sense and Anya could stop being frustrated and confused.

Just as Clarke cracks two eggs into a bowl, and before Anya has the time to question her further about her presence, Lexa emerges from the bathroom. Anya spins around and has to exercise great control to prevent her face from expressing how intensely surprised she is to see this.

 

_Lexa has not been out of bed this early in… I don’t even remember. Not even for classes. What exactly is going on here?_

 

Anya ensures her voice is steady and calm when she says casually, “You’re up early, Lexa.”

Lexa appears surprised to see Anya, which seems rather bizarre to Anya, since she actually lives in this house… unlike Clarke. Lexa does not respond, and everything is quiet except for the sound of Clarke mixing the eggs in a bowl. Anya can see that Lexa is avoiding her gaze, a sure sign that she is hoping to avoid questions. Anya holds her tongue.

Finally, Clarke turns around and breaks the silence. “Onions?” she asks, looking over her shoulder from Lexa to Anya and back again. “Tomatoes?”

Lexa scratches the back of her neck awkwardly. Anya’s lips quirk slightly into a hint of a smirk.

“We don’t have many vegetables…” Lexa says, shifting her weight from one foot to another.

“No vegetables?” Clarke says.

“Nope,” Anya says.

“None whatsoever?”

“None.”

“Wow. Okay, this puts a bit of a dent in my omelette-making... but I can still do this. They’ll still be great.”

“I’m sure they will,” Lexa says quietly. The small, kind smile on her face does not escape Anya’s notice.

 

Clarke makes three omelettes. First is one for Lexa, then one for Anya, and finally one for herself. Lexa waits for Clarke’s food to be ready before starting on her own. Anya has no such patience, but at a look from Lexa, she puts her fork back down on her plate with a quiet sigh and waits.

Lexa and Anya do not have a dining table or breakfast table of any sort. When they have a meal together - an occurrence that has become increasingly rare in the past few months - they generally eat standing around the kitchen or in one of their bedrooms. Otherwise, they eat in their respective rooms alone. If Clarke is bothered by this arrangement, she certainly does not complain about it. She takes a seat on the kitchen floor, leaning against the wall, and begins eating as if it is the most normal thing in the world. Anya imagines this is what she and Octavia must do at home as well. For some reason, it almost makes her smile. Almost.

Lexa glances briefly from Anya to Clarke, and then takes a seat beside Clarke on the kitchen floor. Anya notices the way Lexa seems to relax when she is seated beside Clarke. She does not comment on it and instead diverts her attention towards the plate in her hand.

“The eggs are very nice, Clarke,” Lexa comments after a few moments. Clarke smiles in response. Anya can also appreciate that the omelette she is eating is better than most, but she is not about to admit that to Clarke. She eats on in silence, keeping her watchful eyes on her two friends seated on the floor. The only sound that can be heard is the scratching of forks against plates.

Anya silently stands up and heads over to the fridge, taking out the orange juice. As she moves towards the cupboard that holds the glasses, she glances over at Lexa and merely raises an eyebrow in question. Lexa gives a subtle nod. Anya pours two glasses of juice.

“Would you care for some orange juice?” Anya asks Clarke as she hands one of the glasses to Lexa.

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.”

The carton of juice goes back in the fridge. The silence returns. Anya is not particularly bothered by silence – she has grown accustomed to it – but she suspects that it might be making Clarke (and by extension, Lexa) uncomfortable, so she decides to speak.

“Are you and your friends planning to go to the library today?” she asks Clarke.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. O has an exam tomorrow, I think. Monty and Raven honestly don’t need to study, like they could walk into their next exams and probably ace them already… but Ray just likes to get out of her house and right now the library is the best place to do that. Monty _thinks_ he needs to study, so he’ll be there. And Jas and I really need to get a start on stats. We basically need to learn the entire course in the next few days. Totally doable, right?”

Anya smiles faintly. “I will be doing the same with statistics, don’t worry. I’ll be joining you at the library, then.”

“Cool.”

Anya briefly glances at Lexa, but she does not want to put her in any kind of uncomfortable situation. She need not have worried, though, because Lexa immediately speaks up herself.

“I’ll be there, too,” she says, looking down at her plate instead of at Anya or Clarke.

“That’s awesome!” Clarke says with a grin.

 

_She certainly was not this enthusiastic about my presence at the library._

 

They finish eating quickly enough. None of them are slow eaters, it seems. Clarke offers to do the dishes, but of course Anya will not have any of that. Clarke already did the cooking, after all. Lexa adds her own voice to the protests, and Clarke grudgingly gives in. Anya sets about cleaning up, and she sets the faucet to its highest setting so that she cannot quite hear what the other two are saying over the sounds of the rushing water.

 

“Well, I’d better be off now,” Clarke says. “I need to grab my books and shower and whatnot before hitting the library.” 

“Right,” Lexa says. Her voice drops almost imperceptibly, but Anya is very perceptive, and she has had a great deal of practice with analysing the many moods of Lexa Heda. Anya notices the change in Lexa’s demeanour at the prospect of Clarke’s departure, but she has no intention of commenting on it.

Soon enough, Clarke is out the door. Lexa closes the door behind her, and turns to find Anya watching her from the kitchen. They stand there like that for a moment, evaluating each other, communicating without words, as is their way. Anya raises an eyebrow. Lexa looks away. Anya nods, mostly to herself. She will not be asking Lexa about Clarke.

Instead, she asks, “What time do you want to go to the library?”

Lexa hesitates and bites her lip, still not quite looking at Anya. There is a frown on her face, as if she is trying to figure something out. Anya waits patiently, leaning against a counter. After a few seconds, Lexa says something that Anya was not expecting to hear.

“How long has it been since the two of us actually did anything together?”

Anya is taken aback. “Well… we watched The Emperor’s New Groove on your birthday and ordered Chinese.”

Lexa controls her features with ease at the mention of her birthday. There is only the slightest tightening of her eyes and a shift of her weight from one foot to the other to let Anya know of her discomfort. Anya knows that Lexa’s control comes from months of practice at hiding her pain. Six months, to be specific. She is not certain what happened on Lexa’s birthday, because Lexa did not want to talk about it. One second Anya was coming home from her exam ready to take Lexa out to Lunch, and the next second Lexa was cancelling and curling up on the couch with ice cream. Anya had of course agreed to the change of plans without complaint and informed Lincoln to cancel their reservations.

“We stayed at home. That hardly counts, Anya.”

Anya shrugs.

“Do you want to grab coffee or something sometime soon? Just us two?” Lexa asks, picking lint off of her clothes and not looking at Anya as she says it.

Anya is rendered speechless for a brief moment. There is absolutely nothing that she wants more in the world. Lexa has been isolating herself for so long that Anya had feared Lexa might never want to spend time with her again. Anya knows that she is a constant reminder of Costia for Lexa, because the three of them had spent so much time together, before the accident. So this moment… Lexa actually asking her to go out together? It is a damn miracle, on par with the parting of the Red Sea.

“That sounds good,” Anya says with a faint smile.

“How’s this weekend, sometime before I go to work?”

“Sure.”

Lexa smiles. “Okay then. It’s a date.”

Anya simply nods, her face showing no signs of the strange feeling not unlike joy that she currently feels inside.

 

An hour later, Anya and Lexa are making their way out of the house. Lexa waits on the porch as Anya locks up. It is not until they are already at the end of their driveway that Lexa gasps and, with a sudden air of urgency about her, turns to Anya and says, “Wait, I forgot something!”

“What?” Anya asks, already turning back and getting out her keys. She tosses them to Lexa and waits outside while Lexa rushes back into the house without answering the question. She emerges not 10 seconds later with an article of clothing slung over her arm.

“A jacket?” Anya says in disbelief. “You made us turn back for a jacket? It’s not even that cold out.”

Lexa shrugs. “It’s not mine. I need to return it to someone.”

Anya sighs and shakes her head, and they continue on their way to Mecha library.

Over a short period of time, Anya has grown strangely attached to this library. The credit for this must go to Clarke Griffin and her squad of idiot friends. Their antics, though extremely distracting, are also surprisingly endearing (not that Anya intends to admit this any time soon), and make for a significantly less boring study environment.

The walk takes longer than usual. Lexa is walking slower than she normally does. When they arrive at the library, it takes Anya a moment to spot any of the familiar faces that she is looking out for. She finally sees Raven, who is looking around the library with a bored expression on her face and not paying much attention to her books at all. Jasper and Monty are seated at the same table, Jasper looking miserable and Monty focused on his laptop screen.

Anya heads to the table, and Raven looks up as she approaches. A slight smirk crosses Raven’s face at the sight. Anya feels an inexplicable urge to wipe that self-assured smirk off her face.

“Hey there, Cheekbones,” Raven says. “Cheekbones’ friend,” she adds with a nod to Lexa.

“She has a name,” Anya says. “And so do I.” She sets her bag down in the seat opposite from Raven. When Lexa sits down beside her, Anya watches as she sets the godforsaken jacket across her lap with tremendous care.

“I know,” Raven replies. She then turns to Lexa and adds in a more serious tone, “Honestly, I know your name is Lexa.” Raven chooses to ignore the second half of Anya’s statement, and Anya is hardly surprised.

“Yeah, Raven just has this thing where she physically cannot call anyone by their actual name,” Jasper says. “It’s a problem. The doctors don’t think there’s a cure for it but we’re still hopeful.”

“That’s really the only reason Jas is going into health sci,” Monty chimes in. “To find the cure.”

“It’ll be a rough road, but I won’t give up until you’re all better, Raven,” Jasper says solemnly, placing a hand on her shoulder. The hand is promptly swatted away with an irritated glare.

“Shut up, dumb and dumber,” Raven grumbles.

“You’re only proving our point,” Monty says with a laugh.

“I hate you both.”

“Well, I look forward to hearing whatever nickname you come up with for me,” Lexa says, intervening with a slight smile.

“Aw, don’t encourage her!” Jasper groans.

“I thought your nickname for Lexa was ‘Green Eyes’?” Anya points out.

“I can do better,” Raven says dismissively. She then looks directly at Lexa and adds in an obnoxiously sultry voice, “I’ll make sure it’s a good one, just for you.” She adds a little wink for extra effect.

Anya rolls her eyes. “Does she flirt like this with pretty much anything that moves?” Anya asks the guys in a very unamused voice.

“Pretty much,” Jasper replies.

“Are you jealous, sweetheart?” Raven asks teasingly. Anya bristles at the new pet name and narrows her eyes. “Don’t worry,” Raven adds in an overly-sugary tone. “She doesn’t mean anything to me. You know I only have eyes for you.”

 

“Who has eyes for who now?”

 

Anya turns around at the sound of Octavia’s voice. She hadn’t noticed Octavia and Clarke approaching, which surprises her, because she is usually better at noticing this kind of thing. She must have just been distracted. 

“It’s ‘for whom’, actually,” Raven says, looking up to smile at her friends.

“Yeah, well, nobody cares,” Octavia responds, sticking out her tongue at Raven.

“That’s false. Clarke does,” Raven insists. “Don’t you, C? You’re a grammar nerd, after all.”

“I am not a grammar nerd,” Clarke says defensively. “I just think that people should use the English language properly. That’s all.”

“See? Nerd.”

“Whatever.”

Clarke pauses at the table, and Anya watches her eyes flick from Lexa, to the empty seat beside her, and back again. Lexa throws Clarke a hint of a smile, and Clarke grins and takes up the seat beside her readily.

 

Octavia is walking around to the other side of the table when she notices something and freezes. “Um, Lexa?” she asks gently. There is a strange edge to her voice that she is evidently trying (and failing) to conceal.

“Yes?” Lexa replies uncertainly.

“That… I mean… in your lap… that wouldn’t happen to be… um, is that Clarke’s blazer?”

“Oh, yes!” Lexa says. “I forgot to give this back to you, Clarke. Thank you for letting me wear it the other day.”

The reaction to this simple statement is subtle, yet confounding. Raven’s eyes widen in surprise, and her gaze darts back and forth between Lexa and Clarke rapidly. Octavia stares at Lexa with a look of unmasked awe. Clarke either does not notice their reactions, or chooses to ignore them entirely.

“Anytime,” Clarke replies sincerely. Raven and Octavia exchange a discreet look. Anya cannot help but feel like she is missing out on something. It helps that Jasper and Monty seem equally oblivious to all of this. And Lexa, of course, does not notice any of it either. She merely smiles back at Clarke.

This is the fifth time that Lexa has smiled today, and it is only 10 am.

 

Barely twenty minutes of actual studying time have gone by before Octavia looks up at Anya from across the table and interrupts. “Hey, Anya, is Lincoln coming?” 

Anya resists the urge to smirk. “You should text him and ask for yourself.”

Octavia frowns and mumbles something mostly to herself, but Anya clearly hears the words, “I would if I had his number.” She makes a mental note to remind Lincoln to ask for Octavia’s number. She is rather surprised that he has not already done so. He seemed to be quite taken with her.

 

By noon, Octavia has her hair up in a bun and her feet crossed underneath her on her chair. Clarke is quizzing her on some flash cards from across the table. Raven is attempting to explain statistics to a completely lost Jasper. Monty appears to be playing some type of video game on his laptop. Even Lexa is not really studying, instead listening to the others and actually laughing at Octavia’s increasing levels of frustrations at getting the same cards wrong repeatedly. Anya has made it through all of two practice questions. She is starting to wonder whether this whole study group thing is really a good idea after all.

“Come on, woman, social contracts. We just did this one!” Clarke says with a laugh of good-natured exasperation.

“God damn it,” Octavia growls in frustration. “I’m never going to get that one. Just put it aside and forget about it. There can’t be more than a few marks on it anyway.”

“And what if the 15 mark short essay is on this crap?” Clarke shoots back.

“Well, then, the odds are not in my favour and I’m screwed. I have less than 24 hours and I need to prioritise the stuff I can actually memorise. Next card.”

Clarke shakes her head but obediently goes to pick up the next card.

“Um,” Lexa mumbles, reaching for the card in Clarke’s hand before she can set it aside. She stops her hand just before it touches Clarkes. “May I?” she asks, pointing to the card.

“By all means,” Clarke says, handing it over readily.

Lexa quickly glances over the card. “Political Theory with Kane, right?” she asks, looking back up at Octavia. Octavia nods. “I took it last year. He presents everything in a convoluted way in class, but it’s actually fairly straight forward. I could… um, I could try to help, if you’d like?” The question is added on hesitantly. Anya sees the way the muscles in Lexa’s neck tighten and relax, over and over. She is nervous... And yet she still offered her assistance.

Octavia’s eyes light up. “That would be great!” Lexa seems relieved.

“Lexa, you don’t have to do that,” Clarke says, throwing a warning look at Octavia. “You have your own exams to study for.”

“I can help Octavia for a while. It’s not a problem,” Lexa says, attempting to reassure Clarke. “I’d… I would like to help.”

Clarke concedes with a smile and a nod. “If you’re sure.”

Octavia grins happily. “Excellent! Clarke sucks at this!”

“Well, excuse me for trying to help,” Clarke cries out indignantly. “I don’t even take any poli sci courses, you ungrateful jerk. I could be studying for my own freaking exams.”

That smile plays on Lexa’s lips yet again as she listens to Clarke joke with Octavia. Anya honestly does not know quite what to make of it.

“Well then come over here and help Jasper with stats!” Raven says from across the table. “If I have to go over this ANOVA table with him one more time I’m going to lose my shit.”

“It’s confusing, okay?” Jasper says.

“I am trying to be patient, okay, but it feels like you’re purposely not getting it, dude,” Raven says in exasperation. “Even you can’t be this dense!”

“Well, that hurts my feelings,” Jasper says with an exaggerated frown. He then looks over at Monty and winks. Raven is correct; that is _exactly_ what Jasper is doing. Anya tries to hide her amused smile.

“I saw that wink you little shit,” Raven exclaims. “You _have_ been doing this on purpose!”

Jasper bursts out laughing, and he is soon joined by Monty.

“I hate you,” Raven sneers. “I hope you fail stats.”

“I know you don’t really mean that,” Jasper says confidently.

“You overestimate my fondness for you, Goggles.”

“Goggles?” Anya asks, interrupting the banter.

“One Halloween costume back in first year and the nickname sticks forever,” Jasper says with a sigh.

“What did you go as?”

“Dr. Horrible,” Jasper answers with a grin. “Octavia was Penny. And Finn…”

Almost everyone at the table visibly tenses up. Anya watches the way all eyes shift between Clarke and Raven, who are both determinedly trying not to react. A strange sort of silence washes over the group. Anya does not know what to make of it, and Lexa is clearly just as lost. But the tension eases away almost as suddenly as it arrived, with everyone seemingly straining themselves to return to their former calm.

“Who on earth is Dr. Horrible?” Anya asks.

Jasper looks at her with an expression of forced incredulity and humour. “You don’t know about Dr. Horrible’s sing along blog?” There is a slight edge to his voice that Anya pretends not to notice.

“I don’t know it either,” Lexa says, helping in the efforts to return a sense of normalcy to the table.                    

“That’s unacceptable!” Monty exclaims, and his voice sounds much more unaffected than Jasper’s. His eyes, however, give him away. They occasionally flick towards Raven and Clarke, almost subconsciously, as he continues to keep the conversation going.

“It doesn’t sound like anything in which I would be even remotely interested,” Anya scoffs.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,” Jasper replies with a weak smile.

Anya concedes. “Fair point. Show me this blog, then.”

“Gladly!” Jasper says, grinning more broadly now. His voice is filled with relief, welcoming the distraction.

After watching several videos, the atmosphere of the group lightens considerably. Anya and Lexa are left wondering what has just passed, and who this ‘Finn’ is, but neither of them will be asking any questions

 

During the course of studying, everyone switches seats for the sake of convenience. Lexa ends up seated beside Octavia, and she seems surprisingly at ease with this change. Anya, Clarke, and Jasper sit together on the opposite side of the table, doing practice questions and then working through their answers together. Raven and Monty are both working individually (though Anya is fairly certain that Monty is still switching between studying and playing Minecraft). They do, however, help the statistics trio every so often, which is appreciated.

Clarke frequently loses focus, and instead begins humming along to her music, swaying to the beat. More than once, she comes dangerously close to singing, only stopping when one of her friends literally kicks her under the table. Anya cannot help but marvel at what a strange group this is, and she finds herself oddly glad to be allowed to join them, even if it is only temporary.

 

At five, Lexa has to leave for work. She politely says goodbye to everyone, even flashing another smile. Anya is not certain whether the smile is meant for her, or the entire group… or Clarke. As Lexa makes her exit quietly, Anya notices the way Clarke looks up and watches her leave.

 

It turns out Clarke has to leave not long after Lexa. She receives a phone call a little after 7pm, and then hurriedly begins packing up her things. All Anya hears of the conversation is, _“Oh, I’m on-call?”_

“Guys, I have to run. My friend… needs my help with something. I should be back a bit after 10. Will you still be around?”

“Probably,” Raven says. “We never leave, you know that.”

“Plus I have Political Theory tomorrow, so…”

“Okay, great. I’m gonna leave some of my stuff here so it’s easier. O, I’m leaving my blazer, okay?”

“I shall guard it with my life,” Octavia says solemnly.

“Good! I’ll see you guys in a couple hours.”

Clarke walks away, but she is back in under two minutes, looking rather annoyed. “It’s pissing rain outside,” she announces.

“What? Seriously?” Jasper says in surprise. “When did that happen?”

“No idea,” Clarke shrugs. “That’s what happens when you’re inside all day. Does anyone happen to have an umbrella, by any chance?”

“De nada,” Octavia says.

“O, you know that’s not the right time to use ‘de nada’,” Clarke grumbles, her tone making it clear that this is a discussion that they have had multiple times. "It means 'you're welcome'."

“I know, but it sounds cooler than just no,” Octavia replies. “Plus, I know how much it bothers you.”

“I hate you. So, nobody has an umbrella?”

A chorus of _sorry’_ s and _nope’_ s go around. Clarke sighs. “Alrighty then. Good thing I like the rain.”

“You’ll get cold,” Anya says with concern in her voice. “Why don’t you wear your jacket to keep you warm?”

Octavia lets out a quick laugh, and Anya frowns in confusion. She has been feeling a lot of that, lately. She is not a fan of this.

“Clarke would rather die of pneumonia than ruin her precious blazer,” Octavia says.

“Well, that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” Clarke says defensively. “Ugh, I don’t have time for this. I’ll see you guys later.”

She turns around and heads out for real this time.

Once she is gone, Anya declares her intention to leave shortly as well. “If it’s raining, I don’t want to get home soaking wet at 11 o’clock when I’m exhausted. It’s easier if I get home at a reasonable hour so I have the energy to dry off and shower and whatnot.”

“Wow, okay grandma,” Jasper says sarcastically. “Didn’t realise we were keeping you up past your bedtime.”

Anya does not deign to respond.

“Don’t sweat it, Cheekbones,” Raven says. “I have my car. I can drive you home later.”

“What about us?” Jasper interjects. “Drop us home as well!”

“No,” Raven replies.

“What? That’s not fair!” says Monty.

“Why the hell not?” Jasper demands.

“One, you guys are rude as hell. Two, last time you were in my car you got dirt all over my seats. I was not amused. And three, you live really far out of the way and I don’t feel like it.”

“You are the worst kind of friend,” Jasper says, glaring at her angrily.

“You’re no Phoebe, either.”

“What?” Jasper is genuinely confused.

“Phoebe. She is the best friend,” Raven says. “Duh.”

“No, she is not!” Monty shoots back immediately.

“Definitely not,” Octavia agrees.

Anya frowns. “Who is Phoebe?”

“Phoebe Buffay?” Raven says, disbelief evident in her tone, “From friends? The TV show? Come on!”

“Oh. Yes, I know that show.”

“Thank God,” says Raven, sounding relieved. “You had me worried there for a moment.”

“And Phoebe is your favourite?” Anya asks, amused by the choice. She would have imagined that Raven would be more of a Chandler fan, like herself.

“Yeah, she’s just so wonderfully random and odd. And carefree. And you know she has one hell of a backstory. God, I wish we knew more about her past.”

“Okay, that’s all true,” Octavia butts in, “and Phoebe’s great, but how can you not think that Joey is the best? He’s Joey! He’s innocent and naive and kind and caring and goofy and all around brilliant. And he loves pizza. It’s a no-brainer!”

“No way, you’re both wrong,” Jasper cuts in. “Ross is obviously the best.”

“What?” Raven and Octavia both cry out at the same time.

“I’m sorry, _Ross_?” Anya says skeptically.

“Yeah, Ross. He’s hilarious in awkward situations. He has some of the best lines. And I mean that episode where Emma gets locked alone in the house and he does that whole sarcastic speech about the eagle, and it catches fire, and then the baby jumps to it and they’re _swirling_ in the _whirlpool_ that fills the apartment… God, it gets me every time.”

The conversation soon devolves into a surprisingly heated debate. People begin to stare with amused looks on their faces, welcoming the entertaining distraction. At one point, a random girl walks over and interrupts to throw in her support for Phoebe (which earns her a high-five from Raven) before walking away to rejoin her own group of laughing friends. It only ends when Octavia exclaims that she has an exam the next day and everyone needs to shut up.

Clarke gets back to the library a little after 10, as promised. She is completely soaked, but there is still a smile on her face. She must not have been lying when she said that she enjoyed the rain.

“Thank God you’re back,” Octavia says.

“Well, that’s probably the warmest welcome I’ve ever received from you.”

“Well, I’m ready to leave this library now. And we were waiting for you and now you’re here, so we can leave!”

“Aw, you waited for me?”

“Yeah, dummy. Now let’s go!”

“Way to just assume everyone else wants to leave, too,” Raven scoffs.

Octavia raises an eyebrow. “Are you saying you want to stay here?”

“Hell no.”

“Then why are you being difficult?” Octavia sighs, already starting to pack up her things.

“Because it’s just so much fun.” She truly seems to thrive off of winding up all of her friends.

“Whatever.”

“Alrightie, well, are you ready for a nice stroll in the rain, O?” Clarke grins.

“Nope. Ray’s driving us.”

“Am I now?” Raven says, raising her eyebrows.

“Yes, of course you are,” Octavia says. “You offered!”

“I offered _her_ a ride,” Raven clarifies, tilting her head in Anya’s direction. “Not any of you losers.”

 

Ten minutes, later, the six of them are all cramming into Raven’s car. Jasper calls shotgun, much to Monty’s chagrin, and everyone else is left to squish in the back. Octavia ends up practically on Clarke’s lap. It is an uncomfortable and yet strangely enjoyable ride.

Anya finds herself laughing at the continuation of The Great Friends Debate, this time with Clarke added to the mix and voicing her own opinion. They easily drown out the quiet hum of the radio. This time, the conversation ends when the car is parked outside Jasper and Monty’s house. Even so, they linger in the car for a little while to get in a few last words. Raven has to push Jasper out of the door.

Clarke and Octavia are dropped off next. On the walk to the front door, Clarke turns her head upwards and smiles at the rain landing on her face. Octavia walks ahead to actually unlock the door. Raven waits and watches protectively until they are both safely inside the house. Finally, Anya is left alone in the car with Raven.

As she’s switching the gear from park to reverse, she says to Anya, “You can get in the front seat if you want, Cheekbones.”

“It’s not even a five minute drive,” Anya said dismissively. “Hardly worth going out in the rain for that.”

“Of course,” Raven says. Anya can hear the smile in Raven’s voice as she reverses the car out of the driveway. “Wouldn’t want to get your hair wet.”

Anya does not respond. The remainder of the ride is fairly quiet. It’s really only two minutes, so it does not feel at all awkward. At least, not for Anya. Several times, she comes close to asking Raven some questions. In particular, she would like to know about this ‘Finn’ person Jasper briefly mentioned earlier, and why everyone reacted the way they did to the mention of his (or her?) name. She decides against it.

Once the car is stopped, Anya is quick to get her hand on the door, as is her way. She is ready to say good night and thank you, but Raven calls her name and reaches behind and touches her hand, prompting Anya to turn around.

“Hold up for a second,” Raven says. She withdraws her hand and takes something out of her bag, which is in the front passenger’s seat. She then offers Anya what appears to be a rolled up grey scarf. “Take this. It’ll keep that pretty little head of yours dry.”

Anya raises her eyebrows slightly and smiles faintly. “Pretty?”

In the darkness, Anya just barely manages to see Raven roll her eyes. “Shut up. Are you going to take it or not?”

Anya smiles and accepts. “Thank you.”

As she unrolls the scarf, she notices a piece of paper wrapped inside. Anya is aware of Raven watching her as she reads the phone number written on the paper. She glances back up at Raven with a questioning expression.

“In case it rains again and you need a ride,” Raven says casually, flashing a smile and not quite looking Anya in the eye. For the first time, it actually looks something like a genuine smile, and not just a sarcastic smirk.

 

The next morning, Anya wakes up to discover that Clarke is at her house once again. She is not quite as startled by the early morning noises originating from the kitchen this time, but she is still suspicious and rather confused. She finishes up her regular work out as always before heading into the kitchen. She finds Clarke at the stove, flipping an omelette, while Lexa sits on a counter simply watching her. 

“Clarke,” she says in lieu of a greeting. “You’re back.”

“Yeah.”

“At 8 am.”

“Yeah.”

“Again.”

“Yup.”

There is a brief pause. Clarke appears vaguely tense, unsure of how Anya will react, though she is playing off her relaxed front admirably. Lexa also seems uncomfortable with Anya’s presence. Anya does not let this hurt her feelings. It is not the first time this has happened. It will probably not be the last.

“Will you be making an omelette for me?” Anya asks casually.

Clarke grins in obvious relief. “If you want, sure!”

“I would not be opposed to more of your omelettes.”

Clarke’s grin grows frustratingly wider. “I told you you’d like them!”

Anya rolls her eyes. “On second thought, I don’t want any of your omelettes.”

Clarke cannot seem to help the laughter that bubbles out of her at Anya’s response. Anya narrows her eyes and decides to leave. Which is ridiculous, of course, because this is _her_ house. They are standing in _her_ kitchen. Not Clarke’s. She sees Lexa smile at Clarke’s words, and she cannot bring herself to be too upset. She sighs and simply turns back around to head back into her own room.

“Oh, Anya, no!” Clarke says between her chuckles. “Wait! Come on, don’t be that way. Let me make you breakfast.”

Anya grudgingly turns back to face Clarke. “I am going to shower now. In fifteen minutes, there will be eggs ready to eat.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Clarke says with an obedient nod, a little more successful at hiding her laughter this time.

Anya returns to her room to grab her towel and then makes her way to the bathroom. When she returns to the kitchen fifteen minutes later, Clarke and Lexa are no longer there, but there is a glass of orange juice and a plate with an omelette and toast waiting for Anya on the counter. Anya peeks into Lexa’s room as she walks across the kitchen towards the plate. Lexa appears to be in there alone.

Anya is leaning against the counter, almost done with her food, when she hears the washing machine turn on downstairs. Moments later, Clarke emerges from the basement.

“How’re the eggs?” she asks.

“Good,” Anya replies.

“Well, no need to shower me in praise,” says Clarke. “It’ll go to my head.”

Anya does not respond to this, and chooses to finish off her breakfast instead. “What were you doing downstairs?” she asks as she puts the dishes in the sink.

“I just put some stuff in the washing machine for Lexa,” Clarke replies.

“You’re doing her laundry?” Anya asks in surprise.

Clarke shrugs. “It felt like the sheets could use a wash. And her clothes were all around the room, they didn’t seem that clean either. It’s no big deal. I do Octavia’s laundry too, sometimes.”

Anya does not know what to make of this. _The sheets?_ “I see.”

“It looked like there was an empty bedroom downstairs. How come nobody lives there?” Clarke asks.

“Oh,” Anya says, shifting slightly. “That was a friend’s room. She is… no longer here.”

An expression of understanding crosses Clarke’s face. “Oh, right, of course. I should’ve figured...” Anya raises her eyebrows slightly in surprise. 

 

_Clarke cannot possibly know about… Lexa never talks about it with anyone, and I certainly have not told her._

 

As if on cue, Lexa emerges from her room.

 “Hey, don’t forget to flip the laundry from the washer to the dryer in a bit,” Clarke tells her. Lexa nods.

Anya watches on warily. She knows how reluctant Lexa is to go downstairs, to walk past the empty room. That is the main reason Lexa’s laundry gets done so rarely. Anya has been doing it when she can, but what with all the groups meetings and midterms and assignments, and now exams, she has been falling behind. Not that Lexa would ever say anything or expect that of her, of course. Still, Anya considers it her responsibility to look out for Lexa. It had been her responsibility for years. If she is being honest with herself, she has felt guilty about her inability to help Lexa for a while now. And here is Clarke, helping her with such ease…

It is amazing to behold, and Anya is grateful.

Clarke leaves not long after this exchange, and Anya still knows very little about the reason for her presence. It’s not that she minds, really, because she honestly doesn’t. Who would complain about breakfast and laundry? Heck, maybe she could be tricked into cleaning the kitchen while she’s at it. But the fact remains that Anya does not know why she is here, and this bothers her more than she is willing to admit. She needs answers, and she will not be getting them directly from either Clarke or Lexa.

Anya goes back to her room and looks at the piece of paper that she has stuck up on her bulletin board. She creates a new contact in her phone, and in doing so realises that she does not know Raven’s last name. This is mildly annoying. She likes having last names for the contacts in her phone, but she will sort that out some other time. She has a text to send right now.

 

**8.57AM**  
 **Unknown Number**  
Hello Raven, this is Anya. 

**8.57AM**  
 **Unknown Number**  
I need to speak to you about Clarke.

**8.58AM**  
 **Unknown Number**  
Can we go and get coffee or   
something and talk?

 

**9.04AM**  
 **Raven**  
Well hello there

**9.04AM**  
 **Raven**  
I was wondering when you would  
text me, though I must admit, I didn’t  
think you’d move this fast ;)

**9.05AM**  
 **Raven**  
For the record, if this is your style of  
asking someone out, it needs serious  
improvement! 

 

Anya sighs and shakes her head as she reads Ravens response.

**9.05AM**  
 **Cheekbones**  
Why are you so difficult?

**9.05AM**  
 **Raven**  
For one thing, I prefer to be asked out  
directly and in person. Not over text,  
and no random excuses.

**9.06 AM**  
 **Raven**  
But I’ll allow it this time. 

**9.06AM**  
 **Cheekbones**  
Shut up. I just need to talk to you  
about Clarke. 

**9.06AM**  
 **Raven**  
Well, that’s disappointing

**9.07AM**  
 **Cheekbones**  
Can you please be serious?

**9.07AM**  
 **Raven**  
Okay, when do you want to meet?

 

**9.07AM**  
 **Cheekbones**  
If you can excuse yourself from  
being at the library this morning,  
how about 10?

 

**9.07AM**  
 **Raven**  
It’s a date 

**9.07AM**  
 **Cheekbones**  
No, it is not.

**9.07AM**  
 **Raven**  
You’re no fun at all. 

**9.07AM**  
 **Raven**  
I’ll pick you up at 10.

 

Raven is prompt. Anya appreciates this, as she does not like being late. For the most part, Raven is a good driver, even if she does drive a bit on the fast side. Her parking, however, leaves a lot to be desired. The ride is short, and the conversation does not extend much beyond “Where do you want to go?” and “Starbucks.”

Once they are both seated at a table with warm drinks in their hands (Raven opted for a hot chocolate instead of a coffee, which Anya personally finds oddly endearing), Raven looks at Anya expectantly, waiting for her to speak. Anya can tell by the look on Raven’s face that she does not expect to begin the conversation with small talk.

 

_Good._

 

“Clarke was at my house this morning,” Anya says simply.

“Ah.”

“She was also there yesterday. At 8.”

“Hmm.”

“She made breakfast. And she helped with Lexa’s laundry.”

“I see.”

Anya sighs impatiently. She just barely manages to refrain from rolling her eyes. “Are you going to respond with more than two syllables?”

“What would you like me to say?” Raven asks.

“I don’t know why she is there. Lexa appears to be okay with it but… I don’t know what to think.”

“That’s probably an unpleasant feeling for you,” Raven says, and Anya is surprised by the lack of bite in her words. For once, they don’t seem sarcastic.

“As a matter of fact, it is. I do not like not knowing.”

Raven nods, a neutral expression on her face, but Anya notices something in the way she shifts slightly in her seat, the way her relaxed behaviour has an edge to it that has never been there before.

She is uncomfortable.

“So, have you talked to Clarke about this?” Raven asks. 

“Clarke is being… difficult.”

Raven frowns, and her expression reverts to one that is much more familiar and Raven-like. “Bullshit,” she says, though her tone is not entirely unkind. “Tell me the truth."

“It _is_ true,” Anya replies defensively.

“I’m sure it is, but that doesn’t mean it’s the truth. Now, tell me the real reason you haven’t talked to her about it.”

Anya simply looks at Raven for a while. Raven meets her gaze evenly. After a few moments, Anya finally gives a sigh and acquiesces. “I don’t want her to tell Lexa that I asked about it,” Anya says in a quieter voice than usual. She endeavours to keep her tone casual, but she is certain that she has not succeeded.

“And why is that?” Raven asks gently.

Anya thinks through what she wants to say for a moment before she responds. Raven waits patiently for once. “My relationship with Lexa has been a little… tentative, lately. But we have recently begun to spend more time together, and she is talking more and leaving the house for something other than work and class, and it feels like…” Anya catches herself before she runs away with her words. She pauses, and shakes her head almost imperceptibly. She then looks back up at Raven and continues, “Well, anyway, I can tell that it would probably make her uncomfortable, and I do not want to ruin everything. But I want to know what’s going on with her. So if you know something about what is happening with those two, just tell me.” The _‘please’_ remains unsaid, because Anya cannot bring herself to say it.

A look of soft concern crosses Raven’s face. Anya is fairly certain that Raven is not even aware of this, but Anya can see it clear as day, and it is simultaneously comforting and strange.

“Clarke is… helping Lexa,” Raven says, and there is a great deal of caution in her voice, as if she is thinking about every word before she says it. “They’ve been talking to each other for a few weeks now. I think it's safe to say that Lexa trusts her. It’s not really my place to say any more.”

Anya sighs and nods in acceptance. “I didn’t think you’d say much more than that.”

Raven bites her lip and hesitates for a moment before speaking again. “You should talk to Lexa about it, Anya.”

Anya blinks in surprise at the use of her actual name, though Raven does not seem to acknowledge it at all. Anya does not lose her composure though, and simply nods her head tiredly in agreement. “I know, I know... It’s just so…” She cannot seem to find the right word for it.

“I know,” Raven says, reaching across the table to squeeze Anya’s hand comfortingly. She then smiles and withdraws her hand.

Anya cannot help but be surprised by Raven’s sincerity, though she does not comment on it. A comfortable silence follows as they both merely sip their drinks. It’s a few minutes before Raven eventually breaks it and speaks up.

“How long have you known Lexa?” she asks.

“We’ve gone to the same school forever,” Anya says, a fond smile pulling up the corners of her lips without her knowledge. “But we only really became friends in tenth grade.”

“Oh, so what happened in tenth grade?” Raven asks.

Anya’s smile morphs into a smirk as she says, “Lexa discovered that she was gay.”

Raven nearly chokes on her hot chocolate as Anya resists the urge to laugh.

“Oh… so… are you also… I mean, are you… no, uh, did you, like, help her, uhh... figure that out?” Raven asks awkwardly. This time, Anya cannot resist the urge to laugh, so she laughs. It is brief, but it is a laugh nonetheless. Raven scowls at her and refuses to be embarrassed.

“I suppose I may have, but probably not in the sense that you are implying,” Anya responds.

“Then what?”

“She had just begun questioning her sexuality, and there I was, the only openly gay person in our entire school. She came to talk to me about it, most likely because she figured there was nobody else to go to. She was so wonderfully timid and nervous when she approached me… I felt bad for the poor thing. We talked for a while. I told her about my experiences... Our home town is conservative, to say the least. I suppose I helped her feel like she was not a freak.” Anya pauses briefly for effect before continuing. “A year later, she came out to the whole school.” Anya makes sure that her voice conveys the pride she feels whenever she thinks of how far Lexa has come from being that timid girl, to the impressive woman she is now. She smiles wistfully and adds on, “We have been close friends ever since.”

Raven lets out a low whistle. “Wow, so you were basically like her Gay Yoda, huh?”

Anya raises her eyebrows, and her lips twitch in amusement. “Well… nobody has ever put it quite like that before.”

Raven grins, obviously proud of herself. “That’s your new nickname, by the way. Gay Yoda.”

“No.”

“I’m changing your contact name on my phone to Gay Yoda right now.” Raven’s phone is already out of her pocket when she says this. Anya sighs and shakes her head, but she lets it happen.

 

They leave to join their friends at the library not long after. Once there, Anya notices that Lexa still came even without her, and she feels a strange tugging kind of feeling in her chest, which she tries her best to ignore.

Just before they reach within earshot of the group, Anya looks at Raven and recalls her words from earlier that day.

 

_Directly and in person. Not over text, and no random excuses._

 

“Would you like to go on a date with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed Anya's point of view for the chapter, and I'm sorry if you didn't. Please leave a comment or message me on Tumblr to let me know your thoughts! The longer and more detailed the better.


	9. Tears Stream Down Your Face (And I Will Try To Fix You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the song Fix You by Coldplay. I also highly recommend checking out Swim by Jack's Mannequin and I’ll Be Good by Jaymes Young. It'll be pretty clear when these two songs become relevant for the chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took a while. This chapter was a 10.6k mini-monster for me to write, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out in the end. I'm a tiny bit nervous about it, but I really hope you guys enjoy it!

**5.47PM**  
 **Boner Garage**  
So, I’m moving up in the world

 **5.47PM**  
 **Boner Garage**  
I just bought 3 new blazers.

 **5.49PM**  
 **Starfish**  
Whaaat?

 **5.49PM**  
 **Starfish**  
That’s amazing! How come?

**5.49PM**  
 **Boner Garage**  
Well, I’m going to need them  
for my job at the firm over the  
summer so I was planning on buying  
some anywayy

 **5.50PM**  
 **Boner Garage**  
But also, Lincoln and I are   
going out on our first date  
this weekend and I wanted to  
look really mature and shit.

 **5.50PM**  
 **Starfish**  
What?! You have a date? And  
you didn’t tell me until now?

 **5.50PM**  
 **Starfish**  
Also, I approve of this blazer decision.

 **5.50PM**  
 **Boner Garage**  
I asked him out last night  
  
 **5.50PM**  
 **Boner Garage**  
I would have told you except  
you’re never home at night loser!

**5.51PM**  
 **Starfish**  
Fair point.

 **5.51PM**  
 **Starfish**  
Fashion show tonight?

 **5.51PM**  
 **Starfish**  
I want to see you try on all of  
the blazers!

 

 **5.51PM**  
 **Boner Garage**  
Your blazer thing is so weird,   
my friend

 **5.51PM**  
 **Boner Garage**  
But I’ll never say no to a good  
fashion show

 **5.52PM**  
 **Boner Garage**  
I’ll tell Ray to come too

**5.52PM**  
 **Starfish**  
She has an exam tomorrow…

**5.52PM**  
 **Boner Garage**  
Who cares? This is important!

 **5.52PM**  
 **Boner Garage**  
She will want to be here for this,  
trust me.

**5.52PM**  
 **Starfish**  
Whatever you say, O.

Clarke sighs as she sets aside her phone and goes back to staring blankly at her laptop screen. She feels a pang of guilt for missing out on something she knows is important to Octavia. She knows Octavia would never hold this against her, and it certainly isn’t going to ruin their friendship in the slightest, but Clarke still wishes that she had been there to stay up with her best friend and hear about this in person.

Even so, Clarke cannot bring herself to regret her recent late-night absences. She has been going over to Lexa’s house for the past several nights. It has become something of a habit, an understanding between the two of them. By the third consecutive night, Lexa stopped resisting. And last night, Clarke did not even need to ask to come over. Clarke smiles to herself at the thought of how far they have come in such a short time. She picks up her phone again and looks back at her messages from the night before (technically this morning).

**1.29AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
I am on my way home from work

 **1.29AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
What time will you be coming over?

 **1.31AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
Not that you have to come over, of course

 **1.31AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
You don’t have to if you don’t  
want to.

 **1.31AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
In fact, you are probably sick of  
leaving your house so late at night  
by now so you should probably just   
stay at your house.

**1.31AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
I’m coming over, Lexa.

 **1.31AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
I’ll be there by 2.

**1.33AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
Okay.

 

“Stop staring at your phone and get back to studying, Princess,” Raven says sharply, causing Clarke to jump slightly in surprise and almost drop her phone.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting back to stats!” Clarke says grumpily.

“What are you grinning at on your phone, anyway?” Raven asks.

“Octavia just bought some new clothes so we’re doing a fashion show tonight,” Clarke explains. “She wants you to be there.”

“I have an exam tomorrow…”

“That’s what I told her.”

“Let me guess,” Raven says with small smile playing at her lips, “she didn’t give a shit and demanded that I be there anyway?”

“Yup.”

“Of course.”

“Will you be there?” Clarke asks.

Raven considers it for a bit and then asks, “What’s the occasion? Did she just buy new shit for because, or is it for something?”

Clarke grins. “It’s for a date.”

“What?” Raven exclaims, probably a little too loudly for a library.

“Mhmmm,” Clarke confirms with a happy nod.

“Lincoln?”

“As if there could be anyone else,” Clarke laughs.

“Finally! I’m so there.”

Clarke laughs in disbelief. “And your exam?”

Raven shrugs it off easily. “It doesn’t matter. I already know everything. Studying is more a formality than anything else at this point. This is more important.”

“I guess O was right, then. When do you want to head home?”

Raven glances at her watch. “It’s like 6 now. Let’s just call it a day. We can pick O up if she’s still out shopping and head home together.”

Clarke smiles at the way Raven refers to the house as home, even though she does not live there. She came over a lot this past year though, so she might as well be living there. Clarke considers her a housemate anyway. She would take Raven over Kayla and Anna (or, as Octavia likes to call them, Useless and Loud) any day.

“I like that plan. I’ll let O know.”

Raven is already packing up her stuff. They are out of the library and in Raven’s car within five minutes, both of them eager to leave and stop studying, despite their approaching exams. Octavia is very pleased to have a ride, relieved that she doesn’t have to bus home with her shopping.

When they get home, Clarke puts on her vinyl of the Rocky Horror Picture Show (their go-to fashion show soundtrack), and then she and Raven get comfy on the giant bean bag. Octavia excitedly pulls out her new clothes, and it is evident that she purchased a lot more than just 3 blazers.

“O… remember how we had that little talk about budgeting?” Raven says sarcastically.

“Most of this was on sale. Bite me.”

Raven and Clarke both laugh, and Octavia ignores them as she takes off her top and carefully pulls on a new cream-coloured blouse.

“Nice. Very nice,” Raven says, nodding approvingly.

Clarke nods along as well. To her, it looks the same as every other white blouse she has seen Octavia wear, but she does not say that out loud.

“Wait, this isn’t the whole look yet!” Octavia exclaims, rushing out of the living room and into her own room.

She comes back a few moments later wearing dark skinny jeans, a necklace, hoop earrings, and carrying a pair of killer black heels. Octavia struggles to put on the heels, sticking her hand out to grab onto a chair for balance. She then reaches into another one of her shopping bags and pulls out a blue blazer. Clarke cannot help the grin that spreads across her face as Octavia puts it on.

“A blazer?” Raven scoffs.

“How does it look?” Octavia asks.

“Amazing, O!” Clarke exclaims.

“Well, that’s the most excited you’ve ever been about an outfit,” Octavia says with a laugh.

“Well, she isn’t wrong,” Raven agrees reluctantly. “You look hot, O!”

Octavia beams, and heads to the hallway to look at herself in the mirror. A few seconds later, Clarke hears her exclaim, “Holy shit!”

“What is it?” Clarke calls out, too lazy to get up from the bean bag. Octavia comes back to the living room excitedly and kneels in front of Clarke.

“I finally understand,” she breathes, grabbing Clarke’s hands in her raptures. Clarke grins. “I finally get it! This blazer is amazing.”

“I told you!” Clarke exclaims happily, holding back her laughter. Raven sighs and rolls her eyes.

Octavia stands back up and starts pacing around the room. “I just feel so… mature. And powerful. I feel like I have my life together. And I look good. Holy shit, do I look good. This is wonderful.”

“I’m so glad you get it now!”

“You two are so weird,” Raven says exasperatedly.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it,” Clarke shoots back.

“Fine, I’ll put one on now,” Raven grumbles.

“No, you have to have a whole outfit. You can’t just wear a blazer with sweats, Ray. That’s practically a sin.”

Raven just sighs.

* * *

**1.47AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
Hi

 **1.47AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
I just got home from work

 **1.47AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
How are you?

Raven groans at the noise from the incoming texts.

“Make it stop, C!” she complains.

“Sorry!” Clarke whispers sheepishly, trying her best not to wake Octavia as well. “Forgot to turn it on silent. Go back to sleep!”

Raven just groans again and nuzzles into Clarke’s side further. Clarke smiles at her fondly. It has been far too long since Raven last slept over.

“Who is it?” Raven sighs.

Clarke braces herself for the brightness of the screen and checks. “It’s Lexa.”

Raven forces her eyes open a bit more at the answer. “Ugh, so bright,” she groans. “You going over?”

Clarke hesitates for a moment, and then shakes her head. “No, I’m going to tell her I can’t tonight. I’m staying right here with you two losers.

“Tell her c’mere,” Raven mumbles, her words barely coherent in her sleepy state. “Big bean bag is big. Lots of space.”

Clarke laughs. “You do have a point.”

“She can bring Anya,” Raven says, a slight smile crossing her sleepy features.

Clarke raises her eyebrows at that, but does not comment on it. “I don’t think all five of us would fit here, Ray,” she says instead. “The bean bag is big, but not quite that big.”

“We’ll make it work,” Raven insists. “You and Lex take bed.”

“I forgot how determined you are when you’re tired,” Clarke says with a quiet laugh. “Okay, fine. I’ll ask.”

 **1.49AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Hey, I’m good! Raven came over  
after the library so we’re having a  
bit of a sleep over!

 **1.49AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
That sounds fun

Clarke hesitates briefly, unsure of how to bring up her question. She decides to just be direct about it.

**1.50AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
How would you feel about coming  
over to my place tonight?

 **1.50AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Raven says to bring Anya as well

 **1.50AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
If you’re coming, that is.  
No pressure.

There is no reply for a little while. No three little dots. Lexa does not say anything. Clarke taps her fingers against her phone, staring at the blinding screen, waiting. Finally, those three dots appear.

**1.53AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
I think Anya is asleep.

Clarke had figured as much. It’s still not quite an answer, though, and this does not escape Clarke’s notice.

“Lexa says Anya is sleeping,” Clarke whispers to Raven.

“Wha?” Raven mutters, confused.

“Anya - oh, never mind.”

Raven is already asleep.

**1.54AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
Have fun with Raven and Octavia

 **1.54AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
I will see you tomorrow at the library

 **1.54AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
You can still come over if  
you want to!

 **1.54AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
There’s plenty of space

 **1.54AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
You just have to put up with  
Raven’s snoring

 **1.54AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
You can hear it from the other room!

Clarke waits, tapping her finger gently against her phone once again.

**1.55AM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
Okay, text me your address.

**  
* * ***

 

Clarke opens the door for Lexa and smiles. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

Clarke stands to the side as Lexa takes off her shoes and walks in, looking around at the house intently.

“Would you like a tour? I mean, there’s not a whole lot to see, but we can take a look around if you’d like.”

“I’d like that.”

“Okay, well that door to your left leads to the living room,” Clarke begins, pointing out the door. “I’d take you in there to have a look, but Octavia and Raven are passed out on the bean bag right now, and I don’t want to disturb them.”

“Okay,” Lexa says, a small smile playing on her lips as she follows Clarke into the kitchen.

“This is the kitchen. It’s… pretty much like every other kitchen ever. Very kitchen-y.” This time Lexa lets out a little laugh. Clarke grins in response.

“Bathroom is over there,” she says, pointing down the hall. “This is Octavia’s room, though we both know nobody is in there right now.” Clarke comes to a stop in front of a door with a rather large Game of Thrones poster on it. “And this is my room right here.”

“The North Remembers, huh?” Lexa asks, still smiling slightly as she admires the poster.

“Damn right it does,” Clarke says, opening the door and leading Lexa inside. Clarke switches on the light, and Lexa stands in the centre of the room, looking like she doesn’t quite know what to do or where to go.

“It’s pretty small, I know. But rent is cheap, which is a good thing. O’s room is much nicer.” Clarke eyes the clothes strewn about the room haphazardly and cringes. She cannot recall the last time she vacuumed or even sweeped the floor. “Sorry it’s such a mess. I, uh… well, this is just how I live. Don’t judge.”

“I’m not judging, Clarke,” Lexa says. Clarke notices the way Lexa is looking at the room in wonder, taking in everything from the photographs and posters up on the walls, to the little Yoda bobblehead that Octavia got her last Christmas.

“Good to know. You can feel free to sit wherever,” Clarke says, coming to sit cross legged on her bed. She tries to remember the last time she washed her sheets, and she is fairly certain that it was less than a week ago. At least that's something.

Lexa cautiously takes a seat at the desk. “Is that a stuffed Simba?” she asks, pointing at the toy in question. Clarke turns around to look at her simba and grins fondly.

“Yeah.” Her smile fades slowly as nostalgia kicks in and a hint of sadness unexpectedly hits her. “I’ve had him since before I can remember. My dad bought him for me when I was really little.”

Lexa nods, but does not comment further. Silence ensues. Clarke doesn’t know why this feels awkward. She only hopes that Lexa isn’t too uncomfortable.

 

_Maybe this was a bad decision._

“So, um, how was work?” Clarke asks.

“Work was tiring, same as always,” Lexa replies with a shrug.

“Right,” Clarke says.

“They actually played this really great song tonight. I’d never heard it before, but I liked it a lot. I wanted to - um, nevermind.” Lexa cuts herself off and looks away.

“What was the song called?” Clarke asks gently, trying to meet Lexa’s gaze.

Lexa hesitates briefly, as if deliberating. She then pulls out her phone, and Clarke is confused for a moment, until she realises that Lexa is about to play the song on YouTube. Clarke smiles and waits. It takes Lexa a moment to find the song she is looking for, and then she hits play.

Clarke has to hold in a gasp when she recognizes the first few bars.

_You’ve gotta swim_   
_Swim for your life_

They listen to the entirety of the song in silence. There is no need for them to exchange words, because the music speaks volumes. They frequently glance at each other as they soak it in.

__

_Memories like bullets,_   
_They fired at me from a gun_

Clarke suppresses a shudder. She thinks of the memories that serve as her own personal bullets. She imagines that Lexa is doing the same.

_Just keep your head above._   
_Swim._

 

“That’s one of my favourite songs,” Clarke says quietly once the song is over, a soft smile pulling up the corners of her lips.

“It’s a good song,” Lexa replies with a nod, her voice equally quiet. She hesitates, biting her lip briefly. “Can I... Um, may I play you another song? One of my favourites?” she asks uncertainly.

“Of course!” Clarke replies immediately, smiling encouragingly. Lexa’s fingers hesitate for a fraction of a second over her phone before she types in her song. Clarke waits patiently and eagerly, intrigued.

Lexa hits play, and the gentle song that comes on is unfamiliar to Clarke.

_I thought I saw the devil, this morning  
_ _Looking in the mirror_

Clarke lets her eyes close, her forehead creased slightly in concentration as she listens. She does not say anything.

_I'll be good, I'll be good  
_ _For all of the times that I never could._

She can feel Lexa watching her intently, but Clarke does not open her eyes to meet her gaze. Her head remains bowed as she simply listens.

_For all of the bruises that I've caused and the tears,_   
_For all of the things that I've done all these years._

As the song approaches its end, Clarke feels her eyes begin to tear. The last few notes play out, and then there is silence once again. Clarke opens her eyes and finally looks up at Lexa. Neither of them say a word. Lexa averts her eyes after a moment, staring at the ground, her arms held across her stomach protectively. She is waiting for Clarke’s reaction.

Clarke wordlessly stands up and wraps her arms around Lexa. Lexa’s eyes widen and she freezes in surprise, but she softens quickly and lets herself relax into the hug with a sigh.

“You _are_ good,” Clarke breathes into her ear as she holds her close. She feels Lexa shudder at her words, and something resembling a sob escapes her lips. Lexa’s arms come up to clutch at Clarke’s shoulders as she shudders once more. Clarke pulls Lexa in even closer, stroking her hair soothingly.

“You are good, Lexa,” Clarke repeats, with more certainty in her voice this time. It is suddenly very important to her that Lexa understands that she truly means what she is saying. “Okay?”

Clarke feels Lexa nod softly into her shoulder. “Good,” Clarke says gently.

They remain this way for a few moments. Lexa takes several shaky breaths. It reminds Clarke vaguely of the first night she came over to Lexa’s house, back before she even knew Lexa’s name. Lexa must have been thinking the same thing, because when she pulls back out of the hug, she looks at Clarke and says softly, “Do you remember that first night you came to my house?”

Clarke nods as she leans back against her bed.

“You never... “ Lexa stops mid-sentence, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. As she exhales, she looks back up at Clarke. “You never asked why.”

Lexa does not elaborate further, but she does not need to. They both know exactly what she is talking about.

“I didn’t need to know,” Clarke replies with a slight shrug. “That’s not why I came over.”

Lexa nods. “I know.”

There is another silence.

“I still don’t need to know,” Clarke says finally.

“You deserve to know.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t feel ready to, Lexa. You don’t… owe me anything. It’s okay.”

Lexa looks down at her hands, sitting in her lap. “I… “

“It’s okay,” Clarke repeats.

“No,” Lexa says, looking up with a new kind of fierceness in her eyes. “It’s not. I want to talk about it. I want to tell you. I just…” She breaks off and looks down again in what can only be described as defeat. Her jaw is clenched. Her hands are tight fists in her lap.

Clarke kneels in front of Lexa. “Hey,” she says softly, her hand coming to rest on one of Lexa’s, tenderly loosening her grip. “It’s okay. Come on, why don’t we get you into bed? It’s late, and you’re tired.”

“Okay,” Lexa says quietly, and Clarke gently leads her to the bed. Once Lexa is comfortably lying down and covered in blankets, Clarke turns around to switch off the lights. She does not see the way Lexa’s eyes widen just slightly in worry when Clarke turns away. Clarke waits for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and then heads back to the bed and gets under the blanket. Her bed is slightly smaller than Lexa’s, but they fit comfortably enough. (Clarke, Octavia, and Raven have all slept in it together multiple times, after all.) Lexa nestles in closer to Clarke’s side, her head coming up to rest on Clarke’s shoulder as Clarke’s arm goes around her protectively.

For a while, they both remain quiet and still in the darkness that surrounds them. Clarke wonders what is running through Lexa’s mind, but she does not ask.

 

“She sent me a letter,” Lexa says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She does not turn to look up at Clarke’s face, instead choosing to keep her gaze trained on her own fidgeting hands. Clarke stares up at the ceiling, listening, waiting for her to continue and letting her take her time.

“Apparently, she found some person who delivers gifts and such at specific times. She… that night… it was my birthday. And she sent me a letter. And a present. That’s why I was so… That’s why it got bad.”

Clarke feels her eyes widen in surprise, and she is thankful for the cover of the darkness, thankful that Lexa is not looking at her face. Her arm instinctively tightens around Lexa.

“It must have arrived while I was at work. In the letter she said it was supposed to get there right at midnight. I got home and it was just… _there_. Sitting outside the door on the porch.” It sounds like she is talking to herself more than she is talking to Clarke, but Clarke does not mind. She listens intently, hanging on to Lexa’s every word. “I thought it was something from Anya, at first, but that didn’t quite make sense. I opened it up and it was clearly a birthday present of some sort. And there was a letter with it. I recognized her handwriting on the letter right away and I… Well, I nearly had a heart attack." Lexa sighs and takes a pause, gathering her thoughts for just a moment.

“I read it several times. And I… reacted poorly, to say the least. That’s when…” Her voice trails off.

 

_That’s when you called me._

Clarke finishes the sentence for her in her mind, but does not say anything out loud. She is curious about the present that Lexa mentioned, but she keeps her curiosity to herself. Lexa shudders slightly. Clarke brings her other arm up and wraps it around Lexa as well, pulling her in closer. She wishes that this were somehow enough to help Lexa heal. Lexa sighs and takes a deep, steadying breath, her own arm coming up tentatively to wrap around Clarke as she buries her face in Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke feels Lexa’s arms tighten around her, so she strokes her hair soothingly in response. Lexa takes a few more shuddering breaths, and Clarke only hopes that she can find some solace in the embrace.

Eventually, Lexa’s grip loosens and her breathing evens out. Clarke thinks that Lexa must be asleep by now, but she is mistaken.

“I haven’t opened it yet,” Lexa says quietly.

 

Clarke feels the weight of these words hanging in the air. Something tells her that it is crucial in this moment that she remain silent and give Lexa the time she needs. Clarke waits, still gently stroking Lexa’s hair.

 

“I don’t know if I can.”

The words are barely a whisper, a quiet confession meant only for Clarke’s ears. Something inside Clarke aches at the admission, and she cannot quite describe the odd feeling in her chest, the almost overwhelming need to protect the girl lying in her arms.

Clarke looks down at Lexa’s face, and Lexa looks up at her. The room is dark, but enough light filters through the window for Clarke to make out the tears that glisten Lexa’s face. There are no words exchanged at this moment, but Clarke hopes she is able to communicate what she is feeling silently. She thinks she may have been successful, because Lexa offers her the smallest of smiles.

“You don’t have to do anything until you’re ready,” Clarke whispers back. “It’s okay to take your time.”

Lexa nods, but does not say anything.

“If you want...” Clarke begins hesitantly, not wanting to overstep, “I mean, if you think it might help… I can be there with you whenever you feel ready to open it.”

“I think… I think I would like that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

 

They are quiet again after this. Clarke is ready to fall asleep, but it would appear that Lexa’s mind is unable to rest.

“Clarke?” she whispers uncertainly. “Are you still awake?”

“Yes,” Clarke replies.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Lexa does not say anything for a while. Clarke can almost hear her mind overthinking.

“Never mind,” Lexa says finally.

Clarke frowns at this. “You can’t just say that and then stop,” Clarke says lightly. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter. It is none of my business.”

“You can ask me anything, Lexa,” Clarke reassures her gently.

Lexa does not ask, and though Clarke wants to know what her question was, she is willing to let it drop.

*** * ***

 

Clarke wakes up in the middle of the night. She is disoriented and confused, and the only thing that registers in her mind is the way Lexa is jerking violently beside her. In her sleep, she must have rolled away from Clarke. She is shaking, and Clarke is concerned. She has not experienced this before with Lexa.

Clarke sits up in bed and gently places a hand on Lexa’s shoulder. “Lexa,” she says softly, giving Lexa a gentle shake. Lexa does not stir.

“ _Cos, no!_ ” Lexa mumbles fitfully, her face contorted into an expression of pain.

“Lexa!” Clarke says a bit more forcefully. “Wake up, Lexa.”

Lexa wakes up with a start, panting heavily, fear and confusion clearly etched onto her face as she sits up and retreats away from Clarke, closer to the wall behind her. Clarke gives her the space she needs.

“Lexa, are you okay?” Clarke asks slowly, keeping her voice calm.

“I - I’m - yes, I’m fine. I’m fine. I… I just… I’m so sorry about this.” Lexa refuses to look at Clarke.

“Hey, there’s no need to be sorry. It’s okay.”

Lexa breathing steadies, and she buries her face in her hands. “This is not okay,” she says. She sounds tired and frustrated, as if she has woken up like this more times than she would care to admit. “I can’t just… It can’t always be like this. I can’t handle this.”

Clarke does not know what to say to this, mostly because she knows there isn’t really anything _to_  say. She has been where Lexa is. She can remember all too well the feeling of despair, of believing that things will never get better. And it’s as she is remembering all of this that Clarke also remembers what helped her slowly work her way out of that place.

“Lexa,” Clarke begins hesitantly. She knows this will be a sensitive thing to bring up, and she sincerely hopes that Lexa does not respond negatively. “Have you ever considered… speaking to someone… about this? Like, a counselor, or a therapist? Someone, you know, qualified. Someone who can help.”

_Someone who can help more than I can._

Lexa lowers her hands and looks at Clarke briefly, before she averts her eyes once again. “I’ve… thought about it. A few times, actually. Anya has also suggested it. But I just… don’t see how it would help. I don’t see the point.” Lexa shrugs helplessly.

Clarke takes a deep breath. “It helped me,” she breathes out, a sad smile playing at her lips.

It is almost comical, the way Lexa’s eyes snap back instantly to look at Clarke. Clarke can read the surprise written plainly on her face. Lexa is quick to regain her composure, but she continues to look at Clarke as if she is looking at an entirely new person. There is a mix of wonder and disbelief in her expression. Clarke offers her another smile.

“You can ask,” Clarke offers.

“I wasn’t… I don’t… um - “

“It’s fine,” Clarke says reassuringly. Her hand itches to reach out and comfort Lexa, but she stops herself. “I’m in a place where I’m okay talking about the tough stuff from my past.”

Lexa looks at her with an intensity that is almost overwhelming. “How? How did you get there?” she asks, and there is a hint of desperation and longing in her voice.

Clarke sighs. “It… wasn’t easy. It took time. I was fortunate enough to have a lot of great people around me, supporting me. One of whom was a counselor.”

Lexa nods. She looks at Clarke, and Clarke can see the questions burning underneath the surface. Questions that Lexa does not know if she is allowed to ask.

“I remember you saying, a while ago, that sometime you have trouble sleeping,” Lexa says uncertainly, hesitantly, not wanting to overstep or pry too far.

“Yeah…”

“I believe you said it began… after your father… um…”

“Died? Yeah.” Clarke lets out a dry, humourless chuckle. “His death was kind of the first rung in the Clarke Griffin ladder of depression.”

Lexa watches her solemnly, and Clarke regrets her brazen words. “Sorry… the lame humour thing is a defense mechanism. It’s kind of how I deal with life.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Right. Well... if you want the details to my little sob story... it happened towards the end of my Junior year of high school. It was… a difficult time for me. I tried to avoid thinking about how I felt after he was gone by throwing myself into as many extra curriculars and activites as I possibly could. I spent long days at school, working on different projects. Everyone thought I was handling it so well, but I was really just avoiding coming home to a house where I knew he wouldn’t be waiting to greet me. I felt like I was living this fake life, and nobody could see what was going on inside. Only Octavia really knew that I was… fading. She heard me cry myself to sleep at night. She noticed the subtle differences that I was trying to hide... I stopped painting, because he was always the first person I used to show my work to when I finished. I stopped going to plays, because we always went together. I stopped listening to music, because it all just reminded me of him. Anything we ever enjoyed together felt… _tainted,_ you know?”

Lexa nods in understanding. Of course she knows.

“And that’s honestly not even the worst of it. As a dumb, angry high school kid, all I wanted was someone to blame for it. I needed a target for my anger… and I picked one of my best friends.”

Clarke visibly deflates at the memory, leaning back against the headboard with a soft sigh. It takes her a moment to gather herself, and Lexa sits there patiently, waiting, as Clarke has sat patiently waiting for her to speak so many times before.

“His name is Wells. He was like… the brother I never had. We’ve known each other since birth, pretty much. In junior year, he was volunteering at the hospital where... you know. I trusted him to keep me updated on my dad when I couldn’t be around. And he did his best, for a long time… except for the day that mattered most. The day he died.”

Clarke plays with her fingers, looking down at her hands distractedly as she speaks. It has been a while since she has talked about this.

“I had an interview that day. For some useless college summer program. Okay, well, not exactly useless. It was at… Yale. But, whatever, that didn’t matter. My dad was more important. And he was breathing his last breaths while I was driving out of the state. And Wells didn’t tell me. He didn’t call. He didn’t even text. And so I didn’t get my final goodbye with my dad, which just made everything so much worse. I was… upset with Wells, to say the least. For a long time. I fact, I came here to Ark still mad at him. And then, right at the beginning of my first year here at Ark, I found out that _my mom_ told him not to tell me…”

Clarke takes a shuddering breath, and shakes her head slightly. It’s something she does, an effort to shake off her feelings.

“And Wells, he flew off to study in England after high school. His parents moved there, too. I… haven’t spoken to him since. I might never get to see him again. I never got to apologize to him. The last thing I said to him was _I’m glad you’re leaving for good_.”

Clarke sighs. It feels almost silly, now that she’s saying it out loud. Trivial. Especially in comparison to everything that Lexa has been through. But even so, it still weighs on her. She has worked through a lot, stopped blaming herself so severely, but she still cannot quite let go of that guilt. Because Wells was nothing but an ideal friend. And she had hated him for an entire year. And he let her hate him, so that she wouldn’t hate her mother. And at the end of the day, none of that anger or hatred had brought back her father.

Clarke shudders at the thought. “I remember how I was after my mother told me,” she breathes. “I ignored her, fought with her incessantly, refused to come home for weekends or holidays to see her. And it… it ate away at me inside, even if I tried to hide it. I still went out and smiled and continued like things were fine but I was… it was bad. Raven was the one who suggested the counseling. And God, I remember how much better I felt after I finally made the decision to just put away that hatred. I remember how it felt to hear her say the words _I’m sorry_ and actually accept them for once. I remember how it felt to let her take care of me again when I needed it. I don’t think I would’ve been able to handle Finn if it wasn’t for my mom.”

_Oh, right. Finn._

Clarke had not meant to bring up Finn in such a cavalier way, but her mouth apparently has its own plans. She sees the recognition in Lexa’s face at the mention of the name. Nothing escape’s Lexa’s notice, it would seem. Clarke hesitates, unsure of how to begin. Lexa watches her almost apprehensively, waiting. When Clarke is silent for a few moments, collecting her thoughts, Lexa grows uncertain.

“You don’t have to tell me,” she mutters quickly. “If it’s difficult for you, I mean. That’s fine.”

“No, that’s not it at all,” Clarke reassures her. “It’s just… a long story. And it’s… shit, it’s 5am. We really should try to go back to sleep.”

Lexa nods, and silently lies back down on the bed. Clarke cannot help but feel as though she has let her down in some way.

“We’ll talk about it another night, okay?” Clarke says, settling down into the bed beside Lexa.

Lexa smiles and nods. “Another night,” she agrees.

“Good morning, Lexa.”

“Good morning, Clarke.”

\---

Clarke wakes up surprisingly early. It is barely 9am when her eyes open, and she refuses to get out of bed just yet. She huddles closer to Lexa for warmth instead. Soon enough, however, she hears Raven and Octavia whispering and moving around in the house, so she decides she might as well get up. Carefully removing her arm from around Lexa so as not to disturb her, Clarke gets off the bed and crosses her room silently. She cringes when her door creaks, but Lexa seems to sleep through it.

Clarke walks into the kitchen to find Raven and Octavia talking rapidly in a surprisingly frenzied state. This is unusual, since Octavia is usually still struggling to get out of bed at this time.

“Whoa, where’s the fire?” Clarke asks.

Raven turns around to look at her, and the colour has drained almost entirely from her face. Clarke immediately knows the cause of her concern, because there is only one thing that can cause Raven Reyes to look so afraid.

“It’s my parents,” Raven whispers.

Clarke frowns, coming to wrap her arms around Raven. “What happened?” she asks quietly.

“They want to know why I didn’t come home last night,” Raven says in a flat voice. “They’re… they’re convinced I spent the night with _‘another slut I met at school’_.”

Clarke winces, tightening her arms around Raven. Octavia joins them, forming a group hug. Clarke can feel Raven begin to tremble.

“They want me to come home, now.”

Clarke hates hearing her best friend sound like this. It brings out her most primal, protective instincts. “Did you tell them you were just with us?” she asks.

“Of course. They don’t believe me.”

Clarke pulls back from the hug to look Raven in the eyes, her hands firmly on Raven's shoulders. “I’ll go speak to them with you. Right now. They’ll believe me. They… they still like me, right?” 

Raven smiles at her weakly in gratitude. “Yeah, you’re like the daughter they never had.”

Clarke hears the bitterness in Raven’s voice.

“If only they knew about my promiscuous past and numerous female lovers,” Clarke jokes lightly, throwing in a wink. Raven manages a hollow half-laugh in reply.

“You two should go soon,” Octavia says. “I’d come, too, but we all know they aren’t my biggest fans…”

Raven nods. “Thanks, guys. I…”

“We know,’ Clarke says, and they all fall into another group hug.

When the hug breaks apart, Clarke heads back to her room to grab a jacket, and has to stop herself from gasping in shock when she sees Lexa still sleeping soundly in her bed.

 

_Shit, forgot about her. Shit. I am the worst!_

She quickly grabs a pen and paper from her desk and scribbles out a note for Lexa in her messy handwriting.

_Dear Lexa,_

_Raven had an emergency, had to go help her. Sorry! Octavia will make you breakfast. I’ll see you later._

_\- C_

Leaving the note on the bedside table where Lexa is sure to find it, Clarke grabs her jacket from where it rests on her desk chair and rushes back out of her room as quietly as possible. Raven is already outside starting her car. “O, Lexa’s still here,” Clarke says hurriedly as she heads for the door. 

Octavia nods in understanding. “I’ve got it covered. Go.” Clarke throws her a grateful smile and hurries out the door to join Raven in her car.

Two and a half hours later, Clarke and Raven tiredly walk back through the front door of Clarke and Octavia’s house. They are having a bit of an argument, but not really.

“No, Clarke,” Raven says defeatedly as she collapses onto the bean bag. “I should have told them I was spending the night here. Especially since I have an exam today. They were right.”

“Raven Reyes, I will not hear that kind of talk coming out of your mouth, do you understand?” Octavia’s stern voice surprises both Clarke and Raven. She enters the living room and joins them on the bean bag. Clarke and Octavia both hug Raven from either side, forming what they sometimes refer to as “The Raven Reyes sandwich of healing.”

Raven sighs. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Don’t _yeah, yeah_ , me, young lady!” Octavia snaps back.

“Did you just call me young lady?” Raven asks incredulously, and she cannot help the smile that involuntarily spreads across her face.

“Yes, I did,” Octavia says, and there is an air of finality to her tone. Raven remains silent and simply allows herself to be comforted by her friends for a little while. Eventually, though, she has to put an end to it. “Alright, ladies. I have an exam to get to in just over an hour. I’m fine. Totally good to go. Your job here is done.”

Clarke rolls her eyes at Raven’s dismissal, but she lets go after one final tight hug and kiss to the cheek, both of which are imitated by Octavia. Raven finally gets off the bean bag and shuffles her feet awkwardly a bit as she stands in front of her friends. “I… I... well, you know,” she mumbles.

“We know,” Clarke assures her with a smile.

Raven nods. “Okay. Love you two losers. Bye.” She leaves the house walking a little too fast to be considered normal.

“We love you, too,” Clarke calls after her, shaking her head fondly.

 

Once Raven is gone, Octavia slides closer to Clarke. “How did it go?” she asks.

Clarke sighs. “Exactly how you’d expect. But… I think it’s fine.”

 

_For now._

The words go unsaid, but both of them hear it loud and clear.

“We could -”

“You know we can’t, O.”

“I know… but it just -”

“I know.”

"She’s nineteen though!”

“Still.”

“Ugh.”

“Yeah.”

A silence falls over them as they worry helplessly about their friend.

Finally, Clarke’s mind wanders off topic, and she realises something. “Hey, Lexa isn’t here anymore, is she?”

“Oh, no. It was kind of weird, actually. She woke up like fifteen minutes after you guys left and practically ran outta the house. Like she couldn’t get away fast enough. Girl didn’t even let me make her breakfast.”

“Huh. That's weird. Did she say why she was in such a rush?”

“Nope. Just said bye and took off.”

“Did she… did she seem upset?” Clarke asks worriedly.

Octavia has to think about it for a moment. “Um, maybe a little? I’m not too sure. Hard to tell. It happened pretty fast.”

Clarke frowns at this, confused. She cannot quite figure out why Lexa would react this way.

 

_God, what did I do? Maybe she’s upset I left this morning? Or because I didn’t talk about Finn l ast night? Or because I suggested seeing a professional?_

It could be any number of things, and the thought is not exactly a comfort to Clarke.

“Right… Well, I guess I’ll text her and ask if everything is okay.”

“I’m sure it’s all good,” Octavia says, resting her head on Clarke’s shoulder.

“Yeah.”

Clarke pulls out her phone and her hands hesitate for a moment as she considers what exactly she wants to say here.

**11.52AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Hey, sorry I had to leave before  
you got up in the morning. Raven  
had a bit of a crisis that we had  
to deal with.

 **11.52AM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
O tells me you left in quite a  
hurry. Hope everything is okay!

 

Clarke convinces herself that it’s not a big deal at all when Lexa does not reply for the next few hours.

* * *

Lexa's reply comes when Clarke is at the library with Octavia, Lincoln, Anya, Jasper, Monty, and Miller. Clarke does not see it right away. She’s too busy cramming for her statistics exam with Anya and Jasper. And by cramming, she essentially means learning an entire course in two days… _Again._

The cell bio facebook chat is back in action now, with everyone throwing questions back and forth and trying to help each other out. Clarke is extremely grateful for all of them, because she is at least 80% certain she would have failed without them. They send screenshots of practice questions back and forth, and then explain them to each other. It’s honestly more effective than an entire semester of lectures.

_**Facebook Chat** _

_**3.45PM** _

_**Monroe:** *insert picture*_

_**Monroe:** ^i dont understand the reasoning behind why it is e_

_**Roma:** is it cuz you dont know if its normally distributed or not?_

_**Monroe:** ohhh okay_

_**Monroe:** that was a snake question_

_**Roma:** but wait, doesnt CLT say that like it approximates the normal?_

_**Clarke:** But… the question here doesn’t mention CLT?_

_**Monroe:** I’m confused now_

_**Jasper:** I’m always confused_

_**Anya:** It's just because you don't know it's normally disributed_

_**Anya:** If you look at questions from all of our assignments, he says "normally distributed" whenever he's talking about population mean and deviation, but he didn't in this one_

_**Anya:** So, yes, snake question_

_**Monroe:** Right okay, thank u_

_**Anya:** No problem_

_**Clarke:** If there are snake questions like this on the exam_

_**Clarke:** I’m 100% screwed_

_**Jasper:** I’m screwed regardless_

_**Jasper:** lol_

_**Roma:** GUYS, WE’LL OWN THIS STATS EXAM_

_**Anya:** *thumbs up emoji*_

_**Clarke:** WE GOT THIS_

_**Clarke:** CONFIDENCE IS KEY_

_**Monroe:** ^ Hahaha Clarke is back! :)_

_**Clarke:** haha yeah_

_**Clarke:** Anatomy took Clarke away for a while, but she’s back now!_

_**Anya:** Good to have you back_

Clarke, Anya, and Jasper are huddled together on one side of the table. In all honesty, it’s mostly Anya explaining things to the other two, with Clarke occasionally helping her out. Jasper mostly listens quietly and tries not to think about how unprepared he feels.

Eventually, they take a quick break and Clarke looks down at her phone.

 

 **3.07PM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
I apologise for leaving so suddenly.  
Everything is fine. I was just feeling a   
bit unwell.

 **3.08PM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
I hope everything is alright with  
Raven.

Clarke turns to Anya after reading this.

“Hey, Anya, is Lexa okay?” Clarke asks quietly, leaning forward so the others don’t overhear.

Anya looks at Clarke suspiciously. “She is fine, Clarke,” Anya replies slowly. Clarke gets the feeling that this isn’t entirely true.

“Did she seem upset when she got home this morning?”

Anya frowns. “Why, did something?” she asks, and Clarke can hear the fierce protectiveness in her voice. She also hears a hint of an accusation there, but she brushes this off.

“I - no, nothing happened! I swear. I just… I don’t know, I had to leave the house before she got up and - “

“So Lexa was at your house?” Anya says, as if confirming a suspicion.

“I - yeah, did she not…?”

Anya shakes her head.

Clarke is surprised, but she does not linger on this, because she can see how it bothers Anya. “Well, I had to leave before she got up because Raven had this mini-crisis and needed my -”

“What happened to Raven?” Anya asks with a frown, interrupting Clarke once again.

“Can a girl finish a sentence around here?” Clarke says jokingly. She does not comment on the concern she hears in Anya’s voice.

Anya rolls her eyes. “Sorry. Now, Raven?”

Clarke hesitates… “Um, personal problems. It’s… not really my place to say.”

Anya nods. “Right, of course. I didn’t mean to -”

“You didn’t. It’s fine. I’m sure Raven will tell you about it after her exam.”

Anya looks at Clarke with an expression of feigned surprise. “Why would you say that?”

Clarke gives her an exasperated look. “Anya. I’m not stupid.”

Anya frowns at her. “Could have fooled me,” she mumbles under her breath.

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

Anya nods appreciatively.

“I don’t want to be the one to break Jasper’s heart, anyway,” Clarke says with a laugh.

“What did you say about me?” Jasper asks, looking up at the sound of his name.

Clarke laughs, drawing the attention of everyone else on the table. “Nothing, Jas. Don’t worry.”

“No, you definitely said my name.”

“It was nothing. To quote Elsa, _Let It Go._ ”

Octavia rolls her eyes. “You sure as shit make a lot of Frozen references for someone who hasn’t even seen the damn movie, C.”

Clarke laughs.

“Are you serious?” Jasper exclaims. “With all the times you’ve burst into Let It Go and told us how ‘the cold never bothered you anyway’... and you haven’t even seen it?”

“Sorry, okay! I never had the time!”

“Woman, you’re missing out,” Miller says from across the table. Monty laughs. Clarke sighs, and regrets saying anything at all.

 

It’s a while before Clarke remembers the reason she began talking to Anya in the first place. “Anya, you never told me... Was Lexa okay when she got home?”

Anya hesitates. “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t know if it was your fault, but when she got home, she walked right past me and went straight to her room. All she said in passing was that she wouldn’t be coming to the library today. Didn’t even get so much as a hello.”

Clarke groans.

“Listen, Clarke,” Anya says, leaning forward. Clarke does the same. “Lexa… she’s in a sensitive place right now. She needs friends around her. People who want to help and support her. I know you’ve been doing that, and it’s been… helpful, to say the least. But just… be careful with her. Do you understand what I am saying?”

Clarke frowns, but nods. “I understand.”

“Good. Because if she gets hurt because of you, you will get hurt because of me. Our friendship be damned.”

Clarke cannot help but laugh at this. “I get it. You’re a good friend, Anya.”

“Lexa deserves nothing but the best.”

“Agreed.”

**4.07PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Don’t worry about it. Everything is  
okay with Raven now! I hope you  
feel better soon!

 **4.07PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Would you like me to bring  
some soup when I come over  
to your place tonight?

This time, the reply is almost instantaneous.

**4.09PM**  
 **Lexa Heda**  
I was thinking, perhaps you  
should not come over tonight.

 **4.09PM**  
**Lexa Heda**  
I would not want you to catch  
whatever I have.

Clarke looks at her phone intently for a while. She cannot quite explain why a simple text has the power to make her feel so dejected.

 

 **4.11PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
Oh, okay then.

 **4.11PM**  
 **Clarke Griffin**  
I won’t come over tonight  
if you don’t want me to.

Clarke forces herself to go back to studying. If Anya notices a change in her demeanour, she does not comment on it.

Anya is in the middle of explaining something called the Yule-Simpson effect (a difficult task, when Jasper keeps zoning out every few minutes) when Octavia interrupts them.

“Hey, Anya!” she calls from Lincoln’s other side.

Anya turns to look at her. “Yes?”

“My brother’s band is performing a small show back home, right after exams are over. They’re opening for some random band I’ve never really heard of, but Bellamy says they’re great. It should be a fun time. I just invited Linc. Do you wanna come, too?”

Anya smiles. “Well, Raven has actually already invited me to that. And yes, I am happy to join you, if you'll have me.”

“Excellent!” Octavia says with a huge grin. “You should tell Lexa to come, too, if she’s interested.”

“I’ll do that,” Anya says with a smile.

Clarke is not sure whether Lexa would accept such an invitation, but she is still glad that Octavia has thought to ask.

* * *

That night, Clarke does not expect to receive a text from Lexa. Even so, when she goes to bed without hearing from Lexa, she is more than a little disappointed.

_How can I fix it if I don’t even know what I did?_

She considers texting Lexa to ask, but she doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable. She doesn’t want to force her to talk. Instead, she sighs and tries to sleep.

Clarke jerks awake not long after at the sound of her phone ringing.

_Incoming call from Lexa Heda_

__

Clarke answers before she is even fully aware of doing so.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa says immediately, before Clarke even has a chance to say hello.

“Why are you sorry?” Clarke asks sleepily, sitting up in bed and leaning against the headboard.

“I should not have left like that. I should have explained why…” her voice trails off. Clarke tries to stifle a yawn as she waits for Lexa to continue, but she is not successful. Lexa hears it and immediately backtracks. “Shit. I didn’t even think about how late it was. You must have been sleeping. I am so sorry for disturbing - “

“Lexa, please stop saying that you’re sorry. It’s okay. I don’t mind at all. I’m glad you called.”

 

There is silence on the line for a while.

“You should sleep,” Lexa says. “It’s very late.”

“Lexa, you called for a reason. I’m going to stay on the line until you’re ready to tell me what that reason is.”

 

More silence.

“I just wanted to explain.”

“Explain what?”

“Why I reacted… the way I did.”

“Okay...”

Silence.

“May I come over, Clarke?” Lexa asks hesitantly.

Clarke is surprised by this, but she agrees readily. “Of course, Lexa.”

“Okay. I will be over soon. And then… and then I’ll… yeah. Okay. I will see you soon.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

Lexa hangs up, and Clarke is left feeling incredibly confused.

 

Lexa arrives within 15 minutes. It is not until she is perched cross-legged on Clarke’s bed that she finally decides to speak. She takes a deep breath. “I needed to do this in person."

"Okay."

"The note you left for me...” Lexa begins. Clarke blinks in surprise. Of the many directions she thought this conversation might go, that certainly was not one of them. “The way it was written, the _Dear Lexa_ , and the way you signed off with a _‘C’_...” Lexa hesitates, takes another deep breath, and then looks Clarke directly in the eye. “It reminded me of… someone else.”

“Oh,” Clarke says softly, finally understanding.

“She used to leave me notes like that all the time. _‘Gone grocery shopping, text me if you need anything. C.’_ _‘Grabbing dinner with Anya. See you tonight. C.’ ‘Left lunch for you in the fridge. C.’_ ” Lexa’s eyes are distant, and Clarke can tell that she is losing herself in the memories.

“I - I’m sorry, Lexa. I didn’t know.”

Lexa smiles. “Of course you didn’t. It’s not your fault at all. It was… unfair of me to react that way. I am the one who should be sorry here.”

“Hey, you don’t have to be sorry,” Clarke says, coming to sit beside her. “Stop being sorry. It’s okay.”

“You keep saying that,” Lexa says with a defeated sigh. “But it’s not okay. None of this is okay. I’m not okay.”

Something in Clarke’s chest aches violently. She thinks it is probably her heart. The best she can do is wrap Lexa in her arms and hold her, so that’s exactly what she does. Lexa’s arms slowly come up to rest around Clarke.

“You know, I felt that way after Finn.” Clarke says quietly, and Lexa pulls away from the embrace to look at her as she speaks. “He… he was a good guy. We dated in first year but… it just didn’t work out. It’s complicated. He didn’t tell me about certain things, about his past with Raven in particular. So I ended things with him, because we’d only been together for a few months anyway. We hadn’t even known each other for a whole year. It was just easier to end it. So yeah, I ended it. And I was sad to leave him, but it felt like the right thing to do, at least for me. Only… well, he didn’t quite see it like that. And he… he reacted poorly.”

Clarke pauses. Lexa waits, watches her silently, her expression unreadable.

“He got involved with some things he really shouldn’t have. He said it was to try to ‘get me back’ but… Well, I don’t think he really thought that through. It… there were consequences. Long story short, he got kicked out of Ark, and it was essentially my fault. Though realistically, he could have just as easily been thrown into jail which would have been even worse.”

Clarke appreciates that Lexa does not pry and ask for more details. She’s not sure she can give them. It’s not really her story to tell.

“And then his parents shipped him off to God knows where after that,” she continues with a sigh. “Probably some kind of reform school, I have no idea. Raven still tries to reach him sometimes, to talk to him, but she says can’t find him. I gave up a while ago. His parents are making sure we never see him again. Never… never is a very long time. I know Raven didn't blame me for him, but…”

“But you blame yourself?” Lexa finishes the thought for her.

“Yup. Or, at least, I did. For a long time. She lost her closest friend because of me. The boy she loved. The boy she followed here in the first place, instead of going to college across the country and finally getting away from her parents. And I didn’t even realise - I didn’t…" Clarke stops and just sighs. "Well, anyway. I guess we worked through that, in time. Beginning of second year, we worked through it, and it brought us closer. God, it wasn’t even a year ago, but it feels like a different lifetime.”

They remain quiet after this, letting the words seep into the silence that surrounds them. Lexa simply looks at Clarke. She does not stop looking. “I think…” Lexa begins slowly, and Clarke’s eyes snap up to meet hers.

“Mhmm?” Clarke says, encouraging her to go on.

“I… I think I might want to see someone. Like, a counselor, or a psychologist or whatever it is.”

Clarke’s eyes brighten and she smiles, but she does not want to make a huge deal out of this and make Lexa uncomfortable. All she says is, “Okay.”

Lexa smiles back, but does not say anything further. Clarke wonders how she came to change her mind, but she does not ask.

 

 ****  
“So… how was your day?” Lexa asks after a moment, clearly trying to move the conversation to lighter topics. **  
**

Clarke grins. “Long,” she replies, leaning back on her hands. “Had to deal with Raven and her parents - that was the emergency thing in the morning. And then we spent the day at the library cramming for stats. I’m pretty sure I won’t fail now, so that’s a good thing. Oh, and I got bullied by my friends all day, but that’s nothing new.”

Lexa smiles. “Why were they bullying you this time?”

“Because I still haven’t watched Frozen,” Clarke sighs, rolling her eyes.

Lexa levels her with a stare. “What?” she asks in disbelief.

“I just… I never had the time. And I -”

“Clarke, you have _quoted_ it to me. On multiple occasions. I have heard you sing Let It Go at the library. How can you not have watched it?”

“I just really like the songs. I’m a fan of Idina Menzel. Let It Go is like, almost as good as Defying Gravity!”

“We need to fix this,” Lexa says seriously. “You need to watch Frozen.”

“What, now?” Clarke says with a laugh.

“Yes, now.”

“Lexa, it’s _late!_ ” Clarke says in disbelief.

“That does not matter, Clarke. This is important.”

They argue lightly back and forth for a little while. Not fifteen minutes later, they are under the blankets, waiting for Frozen to load on Clarke’s laptop. Clarke is not entirely certain how this happened.

 

Despite her many protests, Clarke thoroughly enjoys watching the movie. She talks almost constantly throughout ( _“Is she seriously going to marry him after just meeting him? Come on, Disney!”_ ), and she cannot help but notice the way Lexa mouths the words to all of the songs. She has never seen Lexa look so… content. It is completely unexpected and absolutely wonderful to behold. (They both sing Let It Go together.)

Clarke is watching Olaf is help a freezing Anna warm up, when she hears a sniff from beside her. She turns to find Lexa trying to discreetly wipe tears from her eyes. Clarke is not quite certain how to respond to this.

_“Some people are worth melting for.”_

Lexa comes to rest her head on Clarke’s shoulder, still sniffing a little. "Costia used to say that to me any time I felt like I was keeping her from more important things," she whispers sadly. Clarke says nothing, simply stroking Lexa’s hair gently. 

By the time the movie ends, Lexa seems to have gotten past her brief display of emotion. “What did you think?” she asks Clarke eagerly, lifting her head to look at Clarke.

“I loved it. Totally awesome.”

Lexa smiles. “Good. That is the appropriate reaction.”

“Thank you for forcing me to watch it.”

“You are most welcome. But we should definitely go to sleep now.”

Clarke stifles a yawn. “Yeah, jeez, it’s so late.”

 

The two of them settle down in bed. Lexa is facing the wall, but she lies close to Clarke, and Clarke’s arm instinctively goes around her.

Just as Clarke is reaching behind to switch off her lamp, Lexa says quietly, “I’ve never watched Frozen without Costia before.” Her voice is small, and she sounds sad and confused. Clarke’s hand freezes on the switch momentarily, before she flicks the light off and brings her arm to rest lightly around Lexa. She does not say anything.

A few quiet moments later, Lexa speaks again. Her voice is barely a whisper when she says hesitantly, “Clarke, are you still awake?”

"Mhmm."

Lexa shifts and turns to face Clarke. They simply look at one another for a while, with Clarke's arms still around Lexa.

"I don't understand," Lexa breathes quietly into the space between them.

Clarke frowns. "What don't you understand?"

_"You."_

"Me?" Clarke says in surprise, and there is a slight hint of amusement in her voice. "What do you mean?"

"I have been thinking about it and... none of this makes sense to me. Why are you helping me? Why do you stay up late with me every night? Why do you care?"

Clarke takes a moment to gather her thoughts. Lexa questioning her in this way feels all too familiar, yet she still has trouble figuring out exactly what she wants to say. "It doesn't have to make sense," Clarke replies, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hand reaches up to brush a loose strand of hair behind Lexa's ear, and then it comes to rest delicately on Lexa's cheek. "You deserve to have people who care about you and want to support you, Lexa. Despite what you may think, you are a  _good_ person. I can see that, and I want you to be able to see it as well. And I don't want this pain you are feeling now to define you for the rest of your life." 

Clarke stops speaking, and she feels almost as if she is coming out of a trance. Her hand drops back down, and for some reason, she feels strangely vulnerable. She is not used to this level of honesty. The rawness of the moment, the stillness of the room, and the heat of Lexa's searching gaze all seem to be too much for Clarke to bear. Her natural instinct is to look away, lest she lose herself in the immensity of it all. But Clarke forces herself to look directly into Lexa's eyes, to face the immensity that threatens to consume her. She needs Lexa to see how deeply she meant every single word.

In Lexa's eyes, Clarke sees conflict, disbelief, and uncertainty... but there is also an intensity unlike anything Clarke has ever seen before. Lexa trembles slightly, but does not say anything. This feels like an important moment. This silence is important.

Clarke waits.

Finally, Lexa leans forward. Slowly, hesitantly, but with purpose. Her eyes briefly flick down to Clarke’s lips. In that instant, Clarke knows what is about to happen, but it does not register in her brain until she feels Lexa’s lips brush gently against her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that happened! I hope it didn't feel rushed or disappointing to any of you! Please share any and all thoughts about the chapter in the comments, and/or hit me up on tumblr @thesummerofrain. I am a fan of people rambling on about their opinions. The longer the better, really. I am extremely interested in knowing what you guys think about this chapter in particular, because I have been planning that last scene since before I posted chapter 2!


	10. A Heart Can't Smile If It's Full of Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from Holding On Together by Phoenix. The feel of the song is not quite right for this chapter, but the line fits quite well I think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I'm back. Sorry it's taken forever. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Lexa’s lips are soft. This is the first (and only) thought that runs through Clarke’s mind as she allows herself to be drawn into the kiss. Her eyes close, her hand comes to rest on Lexa’s arm, and she responds gently to the way Lexa’s lips move against her own. For a moment, it feels as though she has lost herself in this connection.

But the moment passes.

Clarke comes back to her senses when she tastes the saltiness of Lexa’s tears mixing into the kiss. Her eyes flutter open and she pulls back slowly. Clarke’s gaze flickers over Lexa’s face. Lexa’s eyes remain closed, and she leans in ever so slightly to join their lips once more. When she does not find Clarke’s lips ready to meet her own, her eyes snap open and she jerks back sharply. She does not say anything. She merely looks at Clarke with an undecipherable expression and a wetness to her eyes. They continue to stare at one another in silence. Clarke wants to say something, but she cannot for the life of her figure out what to say.

_What is she thinking now?_

Clarke has never wished more for the ability to read minds. She feels the uncertainty of the moment acutely, like a stabbing pain in her side.

_She looks like she regrets it._

Of course Lexa regrets it. She is in such a vulnerable place, and she must not have been thinking clearly. Clarke should have known better than to take advantage of a moment such as this. This is precisely why she had stopped the kiss.

Lexa discreetly tries to wipe away her tears. Guilt colours Clarke’s thoughts, and she tries desperately to find some way to fix what she has done.

“Lexa...” Clarke’s voice is soft, barely a whisper. “I…”

“Don’t, Clarke. It’s okay.” Lexa averts her eyes as she speaks. Clarke feels an ache within her chest. “This is… I shouldn’t have…”

Lexa pulls away. She sits up with her feet hanging off the edge of the bed, facing away from Clarke.

“No, Lexa -”

“I am sorry, Clarke. I never meant to...” Lexa hesitates for a moment, unsure of what she wants to say. She begins to turn her head to look back at Clarke, but she stops herself. She takes a long, shaky breath, trying to steady herself. She is trembling. “I’m sorry.” With that, she gets up and walks straight for the door.

Clarke watches her leave, watches the door close behind her, and she is unable to do anything about it. It takes her several moments to properly register what has just occurred. When it finally sinks in, she curses loudly to herself and practically leaps out of bed, crossing her room in record time.

A moment later, she finds herself shivering on her front porch, and Lexa is nowhere in sight.

“Great going, Clarke,” she mumbles to herself under her breath. “Just sit there and watch her leave like a total idiot.” She shakes her head and goes back inside. “Don’t say a word or try to stop her or anything.” The only thing keeping her from slamming the door shut is the thought of waking Octavia up. “No, only an _intelligent_ person would do something like that.” She trudges back to her room and collapses onto her bed. “Well, shit.”

She won’t be getting much sleep tonight.

 

*****

 

“What do you mean, she _left_?” Octavia says with a frown.

“What do you _think_ I mean?” Clarke grumbles back.

“And you just let her go?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you fucked up.”

“Yes, I’m well aware.”

“Nice going.”

“You aren’t being particularly helpful, O.”

“I’m not here to be helpful, Clarke. I’m here to tell you the truth. And the truth is, you fucked up.”

“Okay. Yes. I get it. I fucked up. She’s probably really upset, and hurting her is the last thing I ever wanted to do but I went and did it anyway. I know all that.  _Now what_?”

Octavia frowns from where she is perched up on the kitchen counter. She shrugs. “Well, now you talk to her,” she says, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“And say what, exactly?”

“Umm… How about, sorry I kissed you and ruined everything. My bad.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and throws a piece of the pop tart that she has barely eaten at Octavia’s head. “This is serious, O.”

“Okay, fine, fine. Sorry! There’s no need for this pop tart violence. Let’s think…”

They remain there in silence for a while, trying to figure it out. Clarke leans her head on Octavia’s shoulder, and Octavia pats her head sympathetically. Clarke is at a loss. She cannot help but feel as though everything she and Lexa had built together, the friendship and the trust, over the past month ( _God, had it really only been a month?_ ) is now ruined. And it’s all her fault.

“Well,” Octavia says, snapping Clarke out of her own thoughts, “first we figure out how you feel about it. About her.”

Clarke lifts her head to look back up at her friend and frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you like her?”

“Well, of course I like her,” Clarke says impatiently, resisting the urge to roll her eyes again.

“No, C. I mean, do you _like_ her? Like, in a potentially romantical kind of way?”

“Well, yeah, but -” Clarke replies, without really stopping to think about it. She pauses mid-sentence. “Wait…”

Octavia’s eyebrows shoot up and a large grin breaks out over her face. Clarke’s eyes widen in shock at her own words.

“ _Clarke…”_

“What did I just say?”

“You said you like Lexa.”

“Shit. I did, didn’t I?”

“Yup,” Octavia replies gleefully, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word. “I freaking _knew_ it!”

“When did that even happen?”

“I don’t know! You tell me,” Octavia says, just barely managing to contain her amusement at the surprising turn of events.

“Shit... Octavia, I fucked up. Even worse than I thought.”

“Yeah, that you did.”

“I can’t - Wait… what do you mean _you knew_? How could you possibly have known?”

Octavia looks into Clarke’s eyes and, her voice serious for once, she says, “Clarke, you gave her your _blazer_.”

Clarke’s expression is one of pure confusion. “ _What?_ ”

“Your blazer! You know, the one you won’t even let me _touch?_ You let her wear it. And take it home.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “It’s just a -”

“Don’t you dare say it’s just a blazer, Clarke Griffin. We both know how important it is to you. Abby got you that blazer for graduation. Jake helped her choose -”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Clarke cuts her off abruptly. If it were anyone other than Octavia, they might have perceived it as rude. Octavia knows better. After a beat, Clarke visibly deflates and looks away. “I… I’m sorry, O. I didn’t mean…”

“I know,” Octavia says softly, cutting off the apology. There is a moment of silence between them, and then Octavia says quietly, “You look at her the way you look at the stars.”

Clarke’s head comes up in surprise and she looks at Octavia as if seeing a whole new person in front of her. Octavia meets her gaze steadily, almost as if challenging her to deny the truth of her words. Clarke wants to protest, but she knows that anything she says would sound empty and untrue. She sighs. “How do I fix this?” she asks tiredly.

“I don’t know…” Octavia replies truthfully. “You and Ray… you’re the ones who do this whole peer support thing, not me. Oh!” Octavia gasps out loud and her eyes light up in a way that makes Clarke wary. Octavia dramatically brings her palm to her forehead. “I need to call Ray and tell her I was right about this. She’s going to freaking _flip.”_

“The two of you have talked about this before?”

Much to Clarke’s growing frustration, Octavia ignores her and proceeds to call Raven. Clarke sighs again in defeat. Trust Octavia to launch this whole grenade of realisation on her and then just leave her hanging.

“Ray, come over. ASAP. No, forget about the library. This is more important!”

Clarke nudges Octavia’s shoulder and attempts to grab for the phone. “Let the girl study!”

Octavia pushes Clarke away and puts the phone on speaker. “Get off, Clarke! Look, Ray, we have important things to discuss.”

“Just tell me now,” Raven says. Even through the phone, Clarke can hear the amusement mingled with exasperation in her voice.

“I can’t just tell you over the phone. This is Level 4.”

Clarke sighs. Raven gasps. Octavia grins victoriously.

“Did you say Level 4?”

“It’s not Level 4,” Clarke groans.

“Shut up, C. It so is Level 4.”

“Well, why didn’t you say that from the start?” Raven says excitedly. “I’m on my way.”

“Good.”

“Be there in 10.”

“Okay, drive safe. See you soon!”

Octavia hangs up, and the look on her face is a bit too smug for Clarke’s liking.

“I hate you.”

“I love you, too.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “You guys are the worst.”

 

Raven arrives within ten minutes, as promised. It does not take long for Octavia to fill her in on the details. Clarke tries not to get involved with the storytelling, instead making breakfast for the three of them. She cannot quite stop herself from making the occasional interjection or correction when Octavia gets a bit too excited and exaggerates the truth.

“Octavia, I did not _gaze at her longingly as she dramatically fled from my room_.”

“Shut up, Clarke. Raven needs to know all of the details.”

Clarke groans and simply flips an omelette in despair.

Octavia finally ends her tale with, “And the best bit is, Clarke actually _likes_ Lexa. In an _I’d-date-her_ kind of way.” Raven’s eyebrows shoot up, much as Octavia’s had several minutes ago. “So I was right all along, Ray!”

“I never said that I would want to date her,” Clarke points out.

“Oh, so you _wouldn’t_ date her?” Octavia asks skeptically.

Clarke frowns as she plates an omelette and hands it to Raven. “Well, I mean…” Clarke sighs again, her shoulders drooping slightly. “I don't know. Nothing is going to happen any time soon, anyway. She’s not ready for that. It would be cruel to ask her to move on when she isn’t ready. She doesn’t need a girlfriend right now, she just needs a friend. And… honestly, right now I feel like I wouldn’t do a good job at being either of those things for her.” Clarke’s voice is suddenly small and sad and confused. The atmosphere amongst the three friends shifts completely. Octavia and Raven share a worried glance before turning their attention back to Clarke.

“Clarke, you’re a good friend,” Octavia says softly.

“You’ve been good for Lexa. Anya won’t shut up about how much you’ve helped her. It’s actually a bit annoying how much she talks about it.”

Clarke looks up at Raven with uncertainty in her eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” Raven says softly.

“Lincoln says so, too,” Octavia adds.

Raven sets down her food, and she and Octavia hug Clarke from either side, forming their signature Sandwich of Healing. Clarke relaxes into the hug, grateful for her friends and taking comfort in the support that they are providing.

“So, I should talk to her, right? Make sure she’s okay?” Clarke eventually asks, the uncertainty evident in her voice.

Raven and Octavia nod.

“And I’m… I’m not gonna mention the whole, uh, being sort of into her thing. Or whatever that is. I feel like that would mess things up. I just… I just want her to know I still want to be her friend and be there for her, you know? I feel like she was slowly starting to feel better and I want to make sure I didn’t ruin it.”

Octavia opens her mouth, most likely to protest. Raven gently places her hand on Octavia’s arm and silently shakes her head. Clarke remains oblivious to this exchange. “That sounds like a plan,” Raven says encouragingly.

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Octavia agrees.

Clarke finally lifts herself out of the Sandwich. “Okay. I’m… I’m going to call her.”

“I mean, you could go over too…” Octavia suggests.

“Do you think that’s a good idea? I don’t want to just show up if she doesn’t want to see me.”

“How do you know she doesn’t want to see you?”

“Well, the whole leaving in the middle of the night thing sent a pretty clear message.”

“True. Okay, maybe try calling first.”

Clarke steps away from her friends and calls Lexa, the stress building with each unanswered ring. It eventually goes to voicemail. She does not know why she is even surprised.

“No answer,” Clarke informs them, returning back to the kitchen.

“Maybe text her instead?” Raven suggests.

“Yeah, I was just thinking that. Okay.” She opens iMessage on her phone, and then stares at the keyboard blankly, not knowing what to say.

 

 **9.33AM** ****  
**Clarke Griffin** ****  
I’m sorry about last night. I’d  
like to talk, if you’re okay with  
that. I don’t want my mistake  
to stop us from being friends.

 

Clarke reads the message out to her friends, they approve, and so she hits send and then sets her phone aside. “Okay, that’s done. Now I’m just going to not think about it and focus on not failing stats tonight.”

The words have barely left her mouth when her phone buzzes with a text. Clarke jumps in surprise. She was not expecting a reply this soon. Raven and Octavia watch her as she reads the text.

 

 **9.33AM** ****  
**Lexa Heda** ****  
The mistake was mine. Please  
do not feel obligated to continue  
being my friend. I understand.

 

“What the fuck?” Clarke says out loud. Something pulls painfully in her chest and she feels an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

“What happened?” Raven asks.

Clarke reads the message out to her friends. There is a brief silence as Octavia and Raven absorb the information.

"What do I do now?"

“Remember that thing I said about going over to Lexa’s house?” Octavia says.

“Yes…”

“You should do that.”

“Really?” Clarke asks uncertainly, the doubt written clearly on her face.

“Yes.”

Clarke is not entirely convinced. “What do you think, Ray?” she asks.

Raven thinks about her response for a moment before she replies. “I think… you probably won’t feel better until you’ve spoken with her.”

Clarke cannot deny the truth of these words. “Okay. I’m going to reply and tell her that I want to go over and talk about… stuff.”

“Okay.”

 

 **9.38AM** ****  
**Clarke Griffin** ****  
You honestly didn’t do anything  
wrong. I really do still want to  
be friends. Can I maybe come  
over so we can talk, please?

 

It takes eleven minutes for Lexa to respond. Eleven minutes during which Clarke pretends she is not slowly drifting into a state of anxiety-induced frenzy. If she thinks she is fooling Octavia and Raven, she is sorely mistaken, but neither of them say anything. Eventually, finally, her phone vibrates to alert her to the incoming text. It is almost comical, the way she jumps in surprise and nearly drops the phone that is clenched so tightly in her hand. Except it is not funny at all, and Raven and Octavia watch their best friend with uncertainty, trying to spot changes in her expression as she reads the message.

 

 **9.49AM** ****  
**Lexa Heda** **  
** Fine.

 **9.49AM** ****  
**Clarke Griffin** **  
** I’m on my way.

 

Clarke looks up to find Octavia and Raven staring at her expectantly.

“Right. Well… I’m going over to Lexa’s then.”

“Okay.”

“Um, good luck?”

“Thanks,” Clarke says, already bustling about the house to locate her keys and coat. Raven and Octavia simply watch and try to stay out of her way. “Uh, you guys should go to the library and study and stuff,” Clarke calls from the other room.

“You sure?” Octavia asks. “We can wait here and… you know, talk. After.”

Clarke comes back into the kitchen, coat on and keys dangling in her hand. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Exams are still a thing. I’ll meet you guys there later before stats tonight. Probably.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“Super sure.”

“Okay.”

“See you later,” Clarke says, and then she hesitates at the door momentarily before turning back and giving both of them a quick hug. “Thanks,” she mumbles, before heading out the door. They don’t have time to respond.

 

Clarke makes it to Lexa’s house in record time, a little out of breath as she knocks on the door and waits. When the door opens, she is somewhat surprised to find Anya on the other side, and not Lexa. The surprise quickly turns to vague terror at the expression on Anya’s face.

“Clarke,” is all Anya says at first. It does not sound like a friendly greeting. Clarke gulps.

“Uh, hey, Anya,” Clarke says nervously.

Anya glares at her. Clarke waits for the ground to open up and suck her into the fiery pits of hell where she belongs.

“What did I say to you about Lexa?” Anya asks, her arms folded across her chest.

“Uh… you… told me not to hurt her?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. So…”

“So, why did she come back from your place and start drinking through our limited stock of vodka, and then spend most of the night crying in my bed without saying a word?”

Clarke feels as though something is crumbling inside of her.

_This is all my fault._

The pain must be written clearly on her face, because Anya softens for the briefest of moments, before her hard expression returns.

“I told you this already, Clarke. If you hurt her, I will hurt you.”

Clarke manages a nod. The air seems to have left her lungs and she cannot find it in herself to produce any words for a while. Anya simply continues to stare her down, waiting. This does not help with the whole ‘figuring out how to speak’ thing.

“I … can I just… I didn’t mean …” Clarke pauses and takes a shaky breath. “Can I talk to her? _Please?_ ” The desperation in her voice is painfully evident. Anya searches Clarke’s face. What she is looking for, Clarke does not know, but she must find it, because she gives a curt nod and then steps back to let Clarke enter the house.

“She is in my room. Just ahead, on the right.”

Clarke throws Anya a grateful expression and hurries towards Lexa, terrified of the state in which she might find her.

Clarke opens the door slowly, cautiously, and announces her presence in a quiet voice so as not to surprise Lexa. Lexa is sitting up in Anya’s bed, the blankets drawn up around her. Her expression is hard and cold. Not in an angry way, like Anya. No, this is a stoic show of practiced indifference. Clarke can sense the hurt that lies beneath this look.

_I did this to her._

Clarke suppresses the urge to shudder.

Lexa looks at Clarke for a while without speaking. The silence lingers. Clarke is unsure of what to say.

“Good morning.”

Clarke sees a flash of emotion in Lexa’s eyes at her greeting, but before she can identify what it is, it disappears.

“Why are you here, Clarke?” Lexa asks, and Clarke gets a strong feeling of deja vu.

“For you, Lexa. I’m here for you.” She waits for Lexa to say something, but she just looks away and seems determined to remain silent. Clarke takes a tentative step forward. “I just came to make sure you’re okay.”

Lexa swallows and then looks back at Clarke. There is a cold, humourless smile on her face that gives Clarke chills. “I am perfectly fine. There, that’s settled. You are free to leave now.”

The words hurt Clarke, but she does not let this show. She waits for her mind to stop screaming, and then she takes another small step forward. “Lexa, about last night -”

“No, Clarke,” Lexa cuts her off. Clarke freezes like a deer caught in the headlights. “There is nothing to be said. You do not owe me an explanation as to why you don’t - well... we both know.”

“Lexa, that’s not -”

“My behaviour was unacceptable. I was not myself. I should not have kissed you like that. I don't know what I was thinking. I am sorry. I don’t think we should continue to spend so much time together.”

The words hang in the air for a moment. Clarke’s mind is racing.

“No.”

“No?” Lexa repeats, her indifference replaced by confusion and surprise. Clarke suddenly realises that Lexa is still drunk.

“No,” Clarke says again. She comes to sit beside Lexa on Anya’s bed. She looks directly into her eyes as she speaks. Her tone is gentle, yet somehow also firm. “You don’t just get to decide that, Lexa. I… I care about you. A lot. And I care about our friendship. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you care about it as well. And I know that last night probably made you feel, well, a lot of different things, but we can talk through it. I’m here, Lexa, and I’m not leaving until I know we’re okay.”

Lexa takes a deep breath, and for a moment it seems as though she wants nothing more than to believe Clarke. Then her jaw sets and her eyes grow cold once again. “You are wrong, Clarke,” she says quietly. “There is no ‘we’.”

The words hurt. Clarke’s hands begin to tremble and it takes all of her energy to regain enough composure to speak. “Do you - do you really mean that?” she asks weakly, her eyes searching Lexa’s for some hint of the truth.

Lexa hesitates, averting her eyes once again. Clarke takes this as a good sign. She breathes a little easier.

“I feel like you’re trying to push me away, Lexa,” Clarke says gently. She pauses, to see if Lexa will correct her or interrupt in any way. Lexa remains silent, not meeting her gaze, so Clarke goes on. “I get it if you need… time away from me. That’s fair. I can respect your wishes, if that really is what you want.” Another pause. Still nothing from Lexa. “But, if that’s not what you want… If you do still want me in your life, then whatever it is that’s making this difficult for you, whatever it is that’s making you feel like we shouldn’t be friends, well, we can talk about it and figure it out. Together. Just help me understand and let me be there for you.” She doesn’t add the ‘ _Please’_ but Lexa might as well have heard it. Clarke sounds desperate. She knows this, and she does not care. She just needs Lexa to hear her.

The words are met by a long silence.

“I… I’ve wasted enough of your time already, Clarke,” Lexa mumbles defeatedly.

“Hey, I think I get to decide what is and isn’t a waste of my time,” Clarke says determinedly. “And our time together definitely hasn’t been a waste. At least, not to me.”

 

Silence.

Clarke waits.

 

“I’m not worth all of this... effort. You don’t have to keep trying to help. I’m telling you it’s okay to leave.”

“Is that what you want me to do?”

 

Silence.

 

“I am not your responsibility, Clarke.”

Clarke nods. “That’s true. I never said you were.”

“You do not need to make sure I am okay.”

“I know.”

 

More silence.

 

Finally, Lexa sighs heavily and collapses backwards, sinking into the bed and lying on her side with her back to Clarke. Clarke cautiously shifts a little closer. No sudden movements. She reaches out and rests a hand on Lexa’s arm. Lexa does not acknowledge the touch, but she doesn’t pull away either.

“Lexa, I will be here for you as long as you want me to be,” Clarke says, so softly it is barely louder than a whisper.

 

Silence.

 

Suddenly, Clarke feels Lexa tugging her arm, pulling her closer. Lexa grasps Clarke’s hand tightly between both of her own, lacing their fingers together. She brings their intertwined hands close to her chest so that Clarke now has her arm around her.

 

_Hold me._

 

Clarke lies behind Lexa and holds her close. She can finally breathe. It finally feels like everything will be okay.

They remain this way for a long time. Neither of them say a word. Clarke falls asleep a few times, tired from a sleepless night, but she wakes up each time with a quiet start each time, checks to make sure her arm is still around Lexa, her hand still intertwined with Lexa’s, near Lexa’s heart. She is comforted by Lexa's presence and her warmth. She wishes she could simply remain in this moment forever, with Lexa safe and asleep in her arms. Her heart aches because she knows that this is not possible.

Clarke is not certain when exactly Lexa wakes up, but it is all too soon for her liking. Clarke tries to hold on to the serenity of the moment, but it does not last. Lexa shifts slightly and then speaks.

“Clarke?” she says hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry for kissing you last night. I don’t know why I did that. I know I shouldn’t have. I know you’re not… I know you don’t…” She sighs, takes a deep breath and tries to begin again. “I know we are friends. Nothing more. I wasn’t asking for more. I don’t even want more. I don't know what I want. I just - I was just feeling a lot of things and I… I was confused and... I had to let you know how much, how important… ” she trails off again, never quite finishing off her thoughts, speaking more to herself than to Clarke. She sighs again in frustration. “I’m sorry for my inability to articulate properly. I don’t know why talking is so difficult. I feel like I never make any sense to anyone but myself.”

“I understand what you’re saying,” Clarke says comfortingly.

“Okay.”

“You don’t have to apologize. For kissing me, or for anything else. It’s okay.”

“Okay.”

They fall silent again, and Clarke holds Lexa a little closer. Clarke is ready to fall asleep, but Lexa seems determined to talk all of a sudden.

“Clarke?” she says again.

Clarke cannot help but smile at Lexa’s tentative tone of voice. “Yes, Lexa?”

“Clarke… did you… um, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

Clarke laughs. “You can’t just do that. What is it?”

“Are you laughing at me?”

“Yes. Now, what is it?”

Lexa takes a moment to gather her thoughts. Clarke waits.

“Did you, maybe, just for a little bit, sort of… kiss me… back?” Lexa asks.

Clarke’s amusement vanishes. She gets the feeling that this is another very important moment, and she has to not mess it all up right now.

She takes a deep breath and hopes this goes over well. “Yes.”

“I see.”

More silence ensues.

Clarke gives Lexa the time she needs to process this new information. She simply holds her - she hopes not for the last time - and waits to see how Lexa will react.

“If I may ask, um, why… why did you do that?”

 

_Because I think I might love you._

_Whoa, holy shit, Clarke. Find your chill. There is no need to throw around words like that just yet._

 

“It felt like the right thing to do at the time.”

“I see.”

A pause.

“But then you pulled away.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Okay. And, um, just so I am clear on this… why was that?”

 

_Because you were crying and I felt like an asshole for taking advantage of your vulnerability._

 

“Because neither of us were ready for… _that.”_

“I - right. Okay. Yes, I see. I understand.”

Clarke adores the way Lexa rambles when she is nervous.

Lexa turns around to face Clarke. “No, I lied.”

“What?” Clarke says, amusement evident in her voice.

“I don’t understand. Please explain further.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… Um… Do you think… that you _could_ be ready? For whatever it is you think we aren’t ready for now…”

Clarke frowns. “Is this your convoluted way of asking me if I might want… more?”

Lexa turns away again. “I - maybe.”

“Okay. Well, I don’t really know,” Clarke answers truthfully. “And I don’t think we need to know. Not right now, anyway. Right now I just, I just want to be here for you, with you, and hold you until things are less difficult.”

Lexa sinks further into Clarke’s embrace, her back warm against Clarke’s chest. Her hands tighten around Clarke’s. Clarke smiles.

“Clarke?” Lexa whispers timidly.

“Yes, Lexa?”

“What if… What if I am never ready?” Her voice is small. She sounds like she may be on the verge of tears. Clarke holds her tighter.

“Then that’s okay, too. We will still be friends, Lexa. I will still be here for you. There doesn’t have to be anything ‘more’ if we don’t both want it.”

"I don't know what I want. I just... I... I'm scared. I always feel so scared." Her voice breaks. Clarke cannot see her face, but she can hear the anguish in her voice and she knows that there are tears in Lexa's eyes.

Clarke frowns. "What are you scared of?" she asks softly.

Another brief silence.

"I'm scared of forgetting her," Lexa breathes out finally, the words just barely audible to Clarke even though the two of them are lying so close to one another.

Clarke nods.

"If I forget her, she'll just be... gone. It'll be too real. I'm scared of what will happen if I let go. I don't know if I can move on. I don't think I should even get to move on. Not when she's..." Lexa sighs. "I just... I still miss her so much."

The words break Clarke. She holds Lexa a little tighter.

"I don't know if it will ever stop hurting. And I don't know what I'm doing or why I kissed you or... I just don't know anything. And it feels like everything I do is wrong and I can barely breathe anymore and I just... I just... I don't know..." Lexa stops talking. Her words were a mumbled mess but Clarke heard and understood all of it.

"It's okay if you don't know what you want. It makes sense that you'd be confused. You can take your time to figure things out. It's okay. I'm here."

Lexa shudders again, hardly daring to believe that this moment is real. The tears fall a little more readily now. Lexa lifts one of her hands to wipe her eyes, before placing it back around Clarke's. They remain silent once again as Lexa struggles with herself, occasionally shuddering again from a fresh wave of emotion. Clarke continues to hold her through it all, hoping that her presence provides some source of comfort.

Eventually, the tears dry out. Lexa stills. Her grip on Clarke's hand does not loosen. 

“What do _you_ want, Clarke?” she asks quietly, her voice barely a whisper.

Clarke thinks about this for a brief moment. “I just want you to be happy.”

Lexa trembles slightly at this. “That... doesn’t seem very realistic for me right now.”

“That’s okay.”

“I don’t think I get to be happy.”

“You deserve to be happy, Lexa.”

 

Silence.

 

“Clarke?” Lexa mumbles softly, seemingly half asleep.

“Yes, Lexa?”

“You deserve to be happy, too.”

Clarke smiles sadly at this. She does not respond.

“I mean that,” Lexa insists sleepily, shaking Clarke’s hand to make sure she is listening.

“I know you do. Thank you.”

"You're welcome."

Lexa falls asleep with the smallest hint of a smile on her face.

Clarke marvels at the way their jagged edges seem to somehow fit together. She cannot help but feels as though they were meant to find one another. They were meant to be in each other’s lives in some capacity, whether that be as friend or as something else. “More” does not feel like an appropriate word, really. They both already feel so much and care so deeply. Acknowledging some sort of potential romantic _whatever_ would just make it… different. Not _more_.

Clarke is not sure if she believes in romantic love at all. But that is not relevant at this time. All that matters to her is that Lexa is still in her life and is currently safe in her arms.

Holding Lexa feels like coming home. They can figure out the rest later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this was worth the wait. I know it wasn't the longest chapter, but I very much liked ending it here.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience and gentle motivation. The next update won't be as long a wait, I promise. 
> 
> Please leave wonderfully long and detailed comments, or drop by my tumblr @thesummerofrain and let me know what you think :) x


	11. Where My Demons Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the song "Demons" by Imagine Dragons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I'm still alive! Thank you to everyone who has left kind comments or sent me nice messages on Tumblr - I promise I read them all and they keep me going. Hope you all enjoy this chapter - it's mostly just fluff, setting up for the next chapter, which will likely be the last (I know - finally coming to an end!)

A soft knock wakes Clarke from her sleep. She is annoyed at being woken and reluctant to let go of the warmth she feels radiating around her. It takes her a moment to register that she is lying in a bed that is not her own, and that the source of warmth is another human.

_Lexa._

Clarke’s eyes open. She looks at Lexa and smiles at the peaceful expression on her face. She feels a sense of clarity as she watches Lexa breathe easily in her arms.

_I love her._

She feels the truth of the emotion cascade over her. She is almost overwhelmed by how certain she is of this one fact. She holds Lexa closer and sighs, breathing in the moment.

Love has always come easily to Clarke. It just happens - she cares deeply for all the people in her life. She would move mountains for her family and friends if they needed her to. She has never been one to shy away from telling people that she loves and values them. For some reason, this time it scares her a little bit, and she is not quite sure why. She doesn’t know what this love means now. She is simply certain of the fact that she cares for Lexa. She wants the best things in life for her. Lexa is important to her. For now, that is all she needs to know.

“Clarke?”

The soft whisper pulls Clarke out of her own thoughts. It did not come from Lexa. Clarke turns gently to find Anya’s head peering around a half-open door. The noise wakes Lexa as well. She stirs in confusion, then looks around at Clarke and smiles softly.

“Good morning,” Lexa whispers.

“Good morning,” Clarke replies with a smile.

“I don’t mean to interrupt but, Clarke… we have an exam in a few hours.” Anya, ever the voice of reason, reminds Clarke that real life is a thing.

“Ugh, you’re right. Okay, time to go to the library.” She turns to Lexa and adds, “Do you plan to join us?”

Lexa lets go of Clarke’s hand - still clasped in her own until this moment - and attempts to sit up. She groans loudly. “Ahh… the world is spinning a bit too much for that right now.”

Clarke laughs lightly. “That would be the hangover…”

Lexa rolls over in bed, groaning and pulling the covers over herself. “Alcohol is evil.”

Clarke smiles. “Would you like some coffee or anything?”

Lexa makes a muffled groaning noise.

“Gatorade is her hangover cure,” Anya interjects. “I’ll go grab a bottle.” She leaves the room, closing the door gently behind her.

 

Clarke settles back into bed, her arm going back around Lexa. Lexa adjusts and snuggles closer to Clarke. They allow themselves to bask in the quiet comfort of the moment.

Anya enters the room again, and the noise of the door opening makes Lexa groan once more.

“Ah, sorry. Didn’t mean to… well… um, here’s the gatorade.”

“Table,” Lexa mumbles. Anya places the bottle on the bedside table as instructed.

“Clarke, we should go. I told Jasper we would meet him at the library…”

Clarke is reluctant to move, even though she knows she still needs to do a bit of last minute cramming for this exam.

“Go,” Lexa mumbles, finally emerging from the blankets. “I’ll be fine. Go study.”

“Are you sure? I can stay.”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m just going to lie here and try not to move too much.”

“Okay. I’ll see you after my exam?” It comes out as a question, even though this is not what Clarke intended. Lexa offers a small smile and nods. Clarke smiles back, and gently squeezes Lexa’s hand before getting out of bed. “Sleep well,” Clarke says quietly, and then she leaves the room with Anya.

Clarke turns to Anya once they are out of the room. “Okay, so I just need to run home to grab my -”

“Oh no you don’t!” Anya says in a forceful whisper.

“What?”

“You know what.”

Clarke sighs. “We talked. I think things are better now.”

The expression on Anya’s face makes it evident that she doesn’t believe Clarke. Anya does not say a word, she merely continues to stare Clarke down into submission. It’s very effective. Clarke sighs.

“It’s… complicated. But we are figuring it out. I’m still going to be around to try to be there for her and be her friend. That’s really all that matters to me right now.”

Anya contemplates these words for a while and then nods. “Fine.”

Clarke nods as well. “Good. Now I need to run home and grab my bag. I’ll meet you and the others at the library in like 20 minutes.”

****

Clarke arrives at the library about half an hour later to find the gang at their usual table. She sits beside Anya, and together they go over a few last minute stats notes with Jasper. Clarke knows she won’t exactly be getting the highest grade ever in this exam, but she feels reasonably confident. She texts Lexa periodically, checking in and making sure she’s still alive and hydrated. Lexa replies almost immediately each time. Clarke doesn’t want to admit it, but the quick responses make her smile each time - even if they do mean that Lexa isn’t sleeping off her hangover as she should be.

 

It does not take long for Octavia to grow tired of studying. She’s mostly just at the library to act as moral support for the others at this point. She quickly becomes bored and keeps forcing Lincoln listen to songs by her brother’s band. If he minds, he does not mention anything.

“Guys,” Octavia says, drawing everyone’s attention. “We’re all still in for the show back home next week, right? Bellamy’s band is playing.”

Everyone mumbles their agreement, and Octavia grins. “Excellent! It’s gonna be great. Don’t tell Bell I said this, but his band is actually _so_ good!”

“Do they pay you for how much you promo their music?” Raven asks. “You never shut up about it. Jeez…”

“You know what? You’re right. They totally should pay me. I could be their publicist or their manager or something. That would be great. I could make a ton of money and drop out of school and never have to look at a textbook again in my life!”

Raven sighs.

“What’s the band’s name again?” Monty asks.

“The Dropship.”

“Never heard of ‘em,” says Jasper.

“No shit. They’re still new. But they’re getting bigger. They’re opening for a decently well-known band at the show, Bellamy is super hyped about them. Apparently they’re great.”

“Which band? Have we at least heard of them?” Jasper asks.

“Uhm… one sec.” Octavia goes to grab her phone to check the name of the band.

“You don’t even remember their name… can’t be very memorable if you don’t even - ow!”

The eraser that Octavia launched across the table hits Jasper right on the forehead. Everyone laughs and Octavia grins smugly.

“Shut up, Jas. It’s Grounder Attack. I forgot the name, but they’re pretty good! I’d actually heard of them before Bell brought it up.”

Something in Clarke’s memory stirs at the name of the band. “The name does sound familiar,” she says hesitantly. “Have you mentioned them before?”

Octavia shrugs. “Probably?”

Clarke still feels uneasy about something, and she is not quite sure why. “Hmm… I don’t know. Anya, have you - Anya? Is everything okay?”

Anya’s expression has shifted significantly. She exchanges a concerned look with Lincoln. No one else appears to notice, aside from Clarke.

“Anya, what’s the matter?” Clarke asks, trying to be discreet about it.

Anya sighs. “The band… Grounder Attack… They are - _were -_ Costia’s favourite.”

It all suddenly clicks into place for Clarke. She is taken back to that very first chat she had with Lexa. It feels like a lifetime ago now.

_this one band called Grounder Attack was her favourite_

 

“I trust you know enough about Costia to understand why -”

“Yes. I know. I know…”

Anya nods.

“Will she… Would she still want to come with us? I don’t know if…”

“I don’t know,” Anya replies honestly. Neither of them know how Lexa will feel about it, so they don’t discuss it further. Clarke resolves to talk to Lexa after the stats exam.

 

****

 

 **6.47PM**  
Lexa Heda  
How was stats?

 

 **6.56PM**  
Clarke Griffin  
I think it went okay!

 **6.56PM**  
Clarke Griffin  
I’m just happy to be done with it.

 **6.56PM**  
Clarke Griffin  
No more exams for me!!

 **6.57PM**  
Lexa Heda  
That must be a nice feeling.

 **6.57PM**  
Clarke Griffin  
It definitely is. You’re done  
soon too, right?

 **6.57PM**  
Lexa Heda  
Yes, I’m done tomorrow afternoon.

 **6.58PM**  
Clarke Griffin  
So close!

 **6.58PM**  
Clarke Griffin  
Are you studying tonight, or is  
It okay if I come over?

 **6.58PM**  
Lexa Heda  
You can come over

 **6.59PM**  
Lexa Heda  
:)

 **6.59PM**  
Clarke Griffin  
Okay, cool! I’m heading over now.

 **6.59PM**  
Clarke Griffin  
See you in a few mins

 **6.59PM**  
Lexa Heda  
See you soon.

 

*****

 

Clarke sends a text, knocks, and waits at the door. She knows that she will be alone with Lexa, because Anya went out for post-exam drinks with Raven, Jasper, and Monty. This is the perfect time to discuss the show with her. Clarke doesn’t know what to expect, and she does not want to assume anything about how Lexa might react, so she is trying not to overthink it.

Lexa comes to the door right away. She smiles, and Clarke can almost physically feel some of her stress melting away just from the sight.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Clarke asks as she steps inside.

Lexa shrugs, a hint of a smile lingering in her expression. “I’m alright. I’ve had worse hangovers... Though it’s certainly been a while.”

“Fair enough.”

“I’m lucky we didn’t have more alcohol in the house. It could’ve easily been a lot worse!”

Lexa says it lightly, meant as a joke, but Clarke winces. She can’t help but blame herself. She tries not to let her guilt show, but Lexa, perceptive as ever, sees her discomfort clear as day.

“Hey,” Lexa says, reaching out for Clarke’s arm to stop her as she walks past and turn her around. “It’s not… last night… it’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. You aren’t responsible for how I reacted. I just… it’s fine. We are fine.”

Clarke cannot help but grin sappily at this. She pulls Lexa into a tight hug, and they simply remain that way for a little while, holding each other. Lexa buries her face slightly into Clarke’s shoulder. Clarke rubs her back soothingly. Lexa shudders a little, and Clarke pulls her in tighter.

Clarke is never the first to let go of a hug; she always waits until the other person begins to pull away first. Lexa seems content to let it go on, and so their hug lasts longer than it should.

They breathe each other in, holding tight. When Lexa finally begins to pull back, the moment is slow and drawn out. They remain close, still holding each other, close enough to feel each other’s breath. Lexa reaches up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Clarke’s ear, then gently grazes Clarke’s cheek with her thumb before leaning forward and pulling Clarke in for a kiss. Clarke’s eyes flutter and close of their own accord as she melts into the kiss, once again getting swept up in the emotion.

The kiss deepens. Clarke loses the strength to pull away. She isn’t sure she wants to this time. In fact, there’s probably nothing that she wants _less_ in this moment.

Lexa eventually breaks the kiss, and the two of them grin at each other a little nervously before simultaneously bursting into laughter, and then the nerves are gone and everything returns to normal.

“How was stats?” Lexa asks. She laces their fingers together and leads the way to her room.

Clarke shrugs as she follows behind. “I think it went okay. Couple of questions were completely guessed but that’s to be expected. It’s over now, and that’s what matters!”

“Of course,” Lexa agrees, settling on her bed with her back against the headboard. Clarke sits beside her, their fingers still intertwined. Lexa’s head comes to rest on Clarke’s shoulder, as it has so many times before. The only word that Clarke can think of to describe how she feels in this moment is _warm._

“When are you going back home to your mom’s place?” Lexa asks, absentmindedly stroking Clarke’s hand with her thumb.

“Um, Octavia and I are headed back day after tomorrow. She’s done tomorrow and then that gives us enough time to pack.”

“Right. And her brother’s show is that night, right?”

“Yeah. Um, about that…”

Lexa’s hand stills, her body seems to tense slightly, and she lifts her head to look up at Clarke. “Do you… not want me to come to that anymore?” she asks hesitantly. “Because that’s totally fine, of course! I don’t mind at all! I have other things I need to –“

“No, Lexa, that’s not it at all,” Clarke reassures her immediately. “I swear.”

“Oh... Okay then.” Lexa visibly relaxes. “So, what is it about the show?”

Clarke takes a deep breath. “Well, remember how I mentioned that Bellamy’s band is opening for another band?”

“Yeah.”

“Right. So, Octavia just mentioned the band’s name to me for the first time today…”

“Okay…”

Clarke sighs. “And, well, it’s… Grounder Attack.”

“Oh. I see.”

The surprise is evident in Lexa’s tone. Clarke wants to ask her what she is thinking, but she forces herself to wait patiently as Lexa processes.

“Thank you for letting me know,” is all Lexa says, after a brief pause.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Lexa smiles, and rests her head back down on Clarke’s shoulder.

There is another silence.

“What’s the matter, Clarke?” Lexa asks without lifting her head. “I can practically feel you itching to say something.”

“What? No, nothing.”

Lexa sighs and raises her eyebrow at Clarke.

“It’s just I… I don’t know, I guess I was expecting more of a reaction to the band?”

Lexa raises her head again to look face Clarke properly. “I see. And why is that?”

“I don’t know… Because they were her favourite! Because they must remind you of her, and I can only imagine that must be difficult and painful for you. And I don’t want you to feel obligated to come just because I want you too. If it’ll be uncomfortable for you then you don’t have to – you know that, right?”

Lexa smiles softly. “Oh, Clarke... Always worrying about everyone else.”

Clarke lowers her eyes, looking down at her hands instead of returning Lexa’s intense gaze. She does not say anything in response.

“I’ll be okay,” Lexa says. Clarke looks unconvinced, prompting Lexa to reassure her further. “No, really, I think I’ll actually be alright. You and Anya and the others will all be there - it’ll be fine. I can go. I _want_ to go.”

“Okay, if that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

Lexa smiles, and Clarke cannot help but smile in return.

“I care about you a lot,” Clarke says. “I just don’t want you to be… uncomfortable.”

“I know, but you aren’t responsible for making sure that I’m comfortable.”

“I know that,” Clarke says sheepishly. “But I want to make sure anyway. So if there’s anything I can do to make it easier for you, just let me know.”

Lexa smiles. “Your presence will be enough.”

Clarke does not quite know how to respond to this. She scratches the back of her neck as she always does when she feels awkward. “I… Um, I’ll be there with you the whole time.”

“Then I know everything will be fine.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Another brief pause.

“And you’re okay, right?”

“Yes, Clarke, I’m okay. Are you?”

“What? Yeah, of course I am!”

“Good.”

Another pause.

“I’m sorry.”

Lexa raises her eyebrows. “Why are you sorry?”

“I don’t know… it’s kind of a constant state of being for me – I’m perpetually doing and saying stupid things so I’m just always sorry by default.”

“You know, Clarke, you have this enormous sense of responsibility. It’s kind of incredible. But not everything is your fault or your responsibility.”

Clarke does not reply.

***

“Who’s ready for a road trip, bitches?” Raven says excitedly as she bursts into Clarke and Octavia’s house.

Anya, Lexa, and Clarke are all waiting around in the kitchen, bags already sitting by the door.

“First of all, it’s only a three hour drive,” Clarke says, rolling her eyes and hopping off the counter.

“Whatever, princess. Still counts as a road trip.”

“Second of all,” Clarke adds, ignoring Raven and picking up her suitcase, “we’ve been ready for ages – you’re the one that’s late, Ray.”

“Me? Never! The guys aren’t even here yet! And where’s O? Still getting ready?”

“The guys and Octavia are already on the road,” Anya says, flashing a teasing grin as she carries her bag past Raven.

“They left about half an hour ago, Ray,” Clarke says, patting Raven on the shoulder on her way out.

Lexa follows the others out of the house and offers Raven a sympathetic shrug.

“You guys sure know how to ruin a girl’s excitement,” Raven mumbles, locking the door behind them.

“Shut up,” Anya sighs. “I said I’d drive so you get to just put your feet up - quit complaining.”

“That’s true,” Raven agrees. “Okay, excitement is back! Let’s get this sexy show on the road, ladies!”

Clarke sticks her head out of the window of the car. “We’re waiting on you, Ray.”

“Shit, okay – coming!”

Raven sits shotgun and controls the music the entire drive. It’s mostly indie rock, but the odd Spanish song gets thrown into the mix as well. When she plays the Beach Boys (“It’s obligatory road trip music, guys!”) nobody can resist singing along at the top of their lungs.

They play twenty questions to pass the time, at Raven’s suggestion. Lexa vehemently refuses anything vaguely resembling a hint, and Clarke realises how wildly competitive she truly is for the first time. It’s hilarious and endearing, if somewhat surprising.

“Clarke, I swear, if you give me a hint I will never forgive you.”

“But I –“

“Don’t you dare!”

“But you’re not even on the right track!”

“I don’t care – _I will get it!”_

“If you’d just let me –“

“ _Do not.”_

Lexa eventually guesses Padme Amidala correctly, but she is thoroughly unimpressed that Clarke gave her the hint that the person was fictional.

“You wouldn’t have figured it out without that hint,” Clarke teases.

“Excuse you! Of course I would have.”

“But you didn’t…”

“Only because you insisted on that damn hint.”

“I was trying to help! You were losing your mind over it!”

“No hints!”

“Fine! Remind me never to play twenty questions with you ever again…”

Everyone laughs at this.

“That’s fair,” Lexa concedes.

 

Before long they arrive at the house where Clarke grew up. Lincoln’s car is already in the driveway. As the girls pull up, Octavia comes running out of the house.

“We’re back, bitches!” Octavia exclaims.

“Uh, Octavia –“ comes Abby’s voice from the door.

“Right, sorry Mama G, I know – not when the neighbours can hear!”

Abby comes around and gives Clarke a big hug. “Welcome home, sweetie. I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you, too, mum!”

“Raven, lovely to see you, too. You don’t come around here often enough!”

“You can blame Clarke for that one, Abby – she never invites me over. Too intimidated by my intelligence and good looks.”

Abby laughs. “Good to see your humour remains unchanged.”

“Always!”

Anya makes her way up the driveway.

“Mum, this is Anya,” Clarke says. “Anya, this is my mother, Abby.”

“Hi Anya, nice to meet you,” Abby says, pulling Anya into a hug. Anya’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, but she reciprocates the hug.

“Abby’s a hugger,” Raven whispers to Anya as they both head into the house with their bags.

“Yes, I noticed that.”

Abby leans over to Clarke and whispers, “I assume the one still sitting in the car is Lexa?”

“Yeah, she… she just needs a second.”

Abby nods and Clarke goes up to Lexa’s window, which is still rolled down from the drive.

“Hey,” Clarke says, leaning down so her eyes are level with Lexa’s.

“Hello.”

“Would you like to come inside? I promise my mother doesn’t bite.”

“She seems very nice. I just… it’s just been a while since I’ve done this, that’s all.”

“Done what?” Clarke asks, confused.

“Just family stuff,” Lexa mumbles with a shrug, looking down at her hands. “I haven’t so much as spoken to anyone’s parents in months. I don’t really know… how to.”

Clarke recalls that Lexa hasn’t spoken to her parents since she came out to them, and her heart aches at this.

“Hey, it’s okay. I know Abby will like you, and I’ll all be right here with you the whole time. If you don’t know what to do, you can just ask me. Does that sound okay?”

Lexa nods. “Yeah. Okay. That’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

“It will,” Clarke says reassuringly, opening the car door. Lexa steps out and Clarke leads her to the door, where Abby is waiting with a smile. “Mum, this is Lexa.”

“Hi Lexa.”

“Hello, Mrs. Griffin,” Lexa says politely.

“Please, don’t call me Mrs. Griffin. It’s Abby!”

Octavia’s voice calls from somewhere in the house, “She goes by Mama G, too!”

Abby laughs at this. “Yes, I do answer to that as well,” she says, leading the way into the house. Everyone is lounging on the couches watching TV. “So we have five bedrooms upstairs and the living room couches for you all to share. I don’t care who sleeps where, but if I wake up to any of you having drunk sex under my roof at 3 in the morning I won’t be pleased.”

“ _Mum!”_ Clarke exclaims, horrified. Everyone else laughs.

“Well, I’m just being up front. I don’t want a repeat of –“

“Okay, that’s enough out of you!” Clarke says quickly, cutting Abby off hastily and literally shoving her out of the room.

“Okay, okay! You kids have fun. I’ll set out the food now that you’re all here – I’ve made enough for a small army.”

“Sounds great.”

Abby heads to the kitchen, leaving them all to decide on rooms.

“So, we have Clarke’s room, my room, Bellamy’s room, and the two spares,” Octavia says.

“Damn, Clarke – your house is huge,” Jasper says.

“Well, when your mother’s a doctor,” Clarke replies with a shrug.

“Clarke, Bell, and I have queen beds, and the spares have singles,” Octavia continues.

“I call dibs on O’s room,” Raven says immediately. “Your bed is the nicest.”

“Fine, Ray. You and I can take my room. Clarke and Lexa can share Clarke’s room. Who else wants to share Bell’s room?”

“I would prefer a room to myself, if possible,” Anya says.

“Same.”

“Whatever floats your boat. Jas and Monty can take Bell’s room, and Anya and Lincoln can have the spares. Does that work for everyone?”

“Aw, why am I stuck with the blanket hog?” Jasper groans.

“I am not a blanket hog!” Monty shoots back.

“Are too!”

“If it bothers you then you can take the couch, Jas,” Octavia says.

“What? No, I want a bed!”

“That’s what I thought,” Octavia smirks.

“Fiiiine.”

Everyone breaks up to take their bags to their respective rooms. When Clarke is done showing everyone where their rooms are, she goes back to her own. She finds Lexa looking so intently at the paintings and photographs on the walls that she doesn’t even realise Clarke has entered the room.

“I did that one right after my dad got diagnosed,” Clarke says, announcing her presence.

Lexa jumps a little. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to –“

“No, it’s all good. Don’t worry about it. This is one of my favourites, actually.”

“I didn’t know you liked to paint.”

“Yeah, I haven’t in a while though… not since my Dad died. He… he bought me my first paint set when I was a kid.” They walk slowly around the room together, and Clarke is flooded with memories as she looks at her old artwork.

“Dad used to say that the mountains looked angry in this one.”

“I can see that.”

“This one I painted sitting out on the roof. I have yet to find a better spot to watch the sunset.”

Clarke is talking more to herself than to Lexa at this point, but Lexa does not mind. She finds it fascinating and beautiful.

“These are from my Bob Ross phase,” Clarke says with a light laugh. “That’s what really got me started with painting.”

“Bob Ross?”

“You don’t know who Bob Ross is?” Clarke asks incredulously.

“Is that a famous artist?”

“Yeah! He had this tv show where he’d just paint these beautiful landscapes right on camera in half an hour, and make it look so easy. And his voice is so calming and his hair is amazing. He’s just so reassuring and kind - he says things like, “We don’t make mistakes – just happy accidents.” It’s amazing.”

Lexa laughs. “He sounds great.”

“He is!”

 

Abby’s voice calls up from downstairs to announce that the food is ready. Clarke hears Jasper and Monty literally run down to the dining room in their eagerness. She and Lexa make their way down at a more reasonable speed.

Once they are all seated around the table, the conversation drifts to the day’s plans.

“We should go for a walk after we eat,” Octavia suggests.

“Oh, that’s a lovely idea,” Abby agrees. “The weather is wonderful today, and you’ve all been cooped up in those cars for hours. The fresh air will do you good.”

“There are some trails just down the street,” Clarke adds.

“Or,” Jasper counters, “we could watch those home videos of Clarke that we’ve heard so much about!”

Clarke scowls. “No.”

“What videos are we talking about here?” Abby asks, laughing as she goes around loading mashed potatoes onto everyone’s plates.

“The princess one, Abby,” Raven says with a wicked grin.

“Ah, of course. Does anyone else want mashed potatoes?”

“Abby, just sit down and eat. We’ll get food ourselves,” Raven says. “Trust me, no one here is shy.”

Abby gets numerous compliments throughout the meal. After gorging themselves on Abby’s delicious cooking, they all suddenly no longer feel like moving.

“I shouldn’t have had that last slice of pie,” Jasper grumbles, rubbing his stomach.

“If you hadn’t eaten it, I would have,” Monty says. “And that would have been baaad for me…”

“Was this your plan, Clarke? To have your mother feed us to death?” Jasper asks.

“Hey, nobody forced you to eat three pieces of lasagna _and_ a whole bowl of chilli _and_ two slices of pie.”

“But it was all just so good…”

“I think I need a nap,” Lincoln says. “I’m in a food coma right now.”

“No, if we nap we’ll never get out of the house,” Octavia says. “The best way to digest a Griffin dinner is to go for a nice walk, guys.”

“Seriously?” Anya asks.

“Trust me!”

 “Octavia, I might never be able to move again!” Jasper exclaims.

“Oh come on, you big babies!”

After a significant amount of persuading on Octavia’s part, everyone finally agrees to go for the walk. The only exception is Lexa, who isn’t feeling particularly well and opts to stay at the house and rest instead. Clarke insists on remaining with her, and Octavia (after some hesitation) decides to allow it.

As the others head out, Clarke leads Lexa back to her room.

“Can I get you anything?” Clarke asks as Lexa lies on the bed. “Glass of water? Tea?”

“No thank you, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Clarke hesitates in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do. “Um, do you – should I just – um, I’ll just let you rest, I guess.”

Lexa reaches out her arm towards Clarke, and Clarke automatically steps forward to hold her hand.

“Lie down with me?”

Clarke smiles. “Of course.”

Clarke settles behind Lexa and brings her arm around her. Lexa sighs.

“You okay?” Clarke asks.

“Yeah, I’m good.

“Good.”

“Abby is… very nice.”

“Mhmm.”

“Much nicer than my mother ever was.”

Clarke remains quiet, waiting to see if there is more that Lexa wants to say.

“She wasn’t particularly strong in the nurturing department – which isn’t her fault at all. That’s just how she was.”

“Right.”

“She didn’t… I don’t think she ever meant to get violent.”

Clarke pulls Lexa in a little closer, listening.

“She would just get mad sometimes. But it… it stopped, as I got older. I got better at listening to what she wanted me to do.”

Clarke begins running her hand lightly through Lexa’s hair, waiting for her to go on.

“Until I came out to her, of course. That… wasn’t so pleasant. She was unhappy about it. It was… it was a lot. It suddenly felt like I was a six year old child again – small and weak.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“Me too,” Lexa says with a dry chuckle.

There is a brief silence.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to go into tragic backstory mode,” Lexa says awkwardly. “It’s just – today, with your mum, and the paintings, and eating dinner together… it was all very nice. I haven’t had that since the last time I had dinner with Costia’s family. And even then, it wasn’t as… lively.”

Clarke smiles. “Yeah, we are a lively bunch.”

Lexa turns around in Clarke’s arms and smiles warmly. She lifts a hand and places it on Clarke’s cheek. “Thank you for this.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I lost my touch? It's certainly been a while... Let me know what you all think :)


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